


i can't pretend

by mediumbear



Series: Before I See Too Much [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional Baggage, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Kise IS a HUGE car crash DISASTER, Kise POV, KiseTaka, Kuroko no Basuke Alternate Careers AU, Lack of Communication, Light Angst, M/M, Model Kise Ryouta, MomoKise, MoriKise, Multi, Pining, Police Officer Aomine Daiki, Post-KasaKi breakup, Sex Toys, Sexual Roleplay, Slow Build, kurokise, midokise - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 72,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24962392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediumbear/pseuds/mediumbear
Summary: Fresh out of his first relationship, Kise realises he hasn't seen very much of the world. Or someone to call his world.AoKise prequel toBefore I See Too Muchin the same AU! Here, Kagami and Himuro deleted their memories of one another, forgot the MiraGen entirely and didn't pursue the lives of professional basketball players, so neither did the MiraGen.Post-AoKuro, HimuMura, KagaKuro and KasaKi breakup.Multishipping ahoy!
Relationships: Aomine Daiki/Kise Ryouta, Haizaki Shougo/Kise Ryouta, Kise Ryouta & Momoi Satsuki
Series: Before I See Too Much [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1050521
Comments: 20
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There will be lots of different ships! Please read the tags for full disclosure of them all! I will put pairings/specific warnings in the pre-chapter notes.
> 
> This chapter has KasaKi and MoriKise!

When everybody heard that Kasamatsu had dumped him, the reaction was far different than Kise had anticipated. At the age of twenty-one, a few years had passed since their middle-school gatherings but they still crowded around the same table in this Maji Burger as ever and made their usual ruckus.

"Oh, poor thing!" Momoi touched a hand to her shocked face. Aomine shook his head, arms crossed, beside her in the booth seating.

"That's a pity. At a tough time like this," Midorima agreed.

"Thanks, everyone--" Kise sighed, picking up his water for post-breakup-crying rehydration, "Yeah, right when I'm about to go on a work trip, I'm gonna have to deal with it alone…"

"Poor Kasamatsu-kun…" Momoi continued, Aomine closing his eyes and nodding. Midorima adjusted his glasses with his free hand.

"He'll be able to focus on his university exams now, however."

Kise stopped mid-sip like he hadn't heard quite right.

"Huh? Focus?"

He glanced between his so-called friends around the table, each wearing their own flavour of disapproval as they picked at a combined heap of fries shared on a tray. There was only a second of silence before Midorima seemed to sit up and take the burden of saying it out loud.

"Your lifestyle is difficult for anyone to keep up with, in fact." Midorima folded his arms and looked at him sternly, "How was he supposed to choose you over his studies?"

"Midorimacchi, that's--"

"Kasamatsu-kun has the makings of a great player, so this way, he'll…" Momoi waved a fry whimsically.

"Momocchi-- are you saying I was distracting him?"

Aomine sighed. "You never went to any of his Strky matches. Least you could do."

"Aomimecchi too?!"

"You weren't exactly there for him." Kuroko said bluntly, immediately returning to sipping his milkshake. 

"Kurokocchi, that's so harsh..."

"You were a pretty lousy boyfriend by the sounds of it, Se-chin." Murasakibara mumbled just loudly enough through his apple pie portion.

"Even Murasakibaracchi?!" Kise strained and clapped his hands on the table edge, desperately looking towards their captain, who sat unwrapping his burger with great respect for the folds in the paper. "Akashicchi, _you_ feel sorry for me, right?! I just got dumped for the first time in my life! We were an item for like, three years! I've been crying all day!"

Akashi closed his eyes, then met Kise's gaze with a light-hearted smile.

"The first one never lasts. It was bound to happen. Could you pass me a napkin?" 

So, that kind of attitude had been in the air a while, and not a soul had spilled. They never had the heart to comment. Kise felt his eyes prickle with the soreness of having sobbed all morning as he passed the napkin dispenser across, sulking. 

"You all thought that this whole time… all of you…" He hiccuped.

There wasn't a whole lot more that they could say and honestly, it was hard to want to comfort someone who they'd seen treat their partner like they were beneath them. Not in so many words, but it didn't matter how often he reworked the way he spoke Kasamatsu's name: the relationship sounded like a fun pastime to dip in and out of. The Kise that sat hunched before them making little hiccups and sulking was not the old Kise of Teikou, since he now cared what people thought of him, nor Kaijou's new ace learning to respect all his opponents -- but he wasn't exactly mature. Momoi and Aomine shared a ketchup dip and watched Kuroko be the first person to soften; tears were his call to action, even Kise's, and he couldn't help giving in.

"There, there," he reached over the table and patted Kise's soft hair. It was like watching him tend to a scared dog, but Kise predictably glanced up, eyes big with tears, and tried to clasp at his hands.

"Kurokocchi…!"

Kuroko whipped his hands away as he learnt his lesson and Murasakibara took over the soothing patting with what felt like heavy elephant-stomps of his hand on Kise's head.

"Well? What're you doing on the work trip?" he asked in a bald-faced attempt to steer the conversation away from this boring topic.

"Modelling," Kise snivelled, wiped his face with a Maji Burger napkin, and immediately appeared to rid himself of his bunged-up voice, "Beach shoot. They wanna be on location for the sunrise and sunset, so it's a trip."

"Nice for some," Aomine said.

"It's pretty hard work, you know! Every time this happens I need to tell my landlord and I have to change my whole schedule for like, a month in advance!" he retorted, and with a collective mental sigh of relief the team found themselves moving away from the subject of the breakup. 

"Won't this be a good opportunity to get away from everything for a bit?" Akashi said between delicate bites of his burger, "No bad memories or bumping into anybody."

Kise teared up all over again. "But I don't wanna be alone…"

Close, but no cigar. Midorima wiped his hands on a napkin and gripped the day's lucky item, a baby rattle, on the booth table.

"Sorry that you're hurting, Kise," he said plainly, "But you must understand that you were not a good partner, in fact. This is why you find yourself alone." 

All goggled at him, the brutal and romantic words coming from him all of a sudden; Kise was the only one who whipped up a reply.

"Can't you just be _sorry for me_ , Midorimacchi? Why does it have to be about who was wrong? You're meant to say that 'it's his fault', or 'you're too good for him', or…"

"Damn, how many girls did you lie to?!" Aomine struggled, but Kise wouldn't look at him, frowning at Midorima with his red-rimmed eyes. Midorima scowled back.

"Like Aomine said, those things are lies. I will not lie to placate your feelings."

"Boys, quiet down! We always make a fuss in this place!" Momoi hissed.

"They really never grew up…" Kuroko murmured to her.

Kise huffed. "That doesn't _matter_ , it's enough to just help a friend out."

Midorima frowned. "But it will not be true."

"C'mon, it doesn't matter, does it?" 

The table felt silent save for the consistent munching coming from Murasakibara with a big dent in the mountain of fries in front of him.

"Kise," Akashi said gently, and when Kise looked over he'd put down the burger that he was working on as thoroughly as a master painting restoration, and was staring straight at him with a strange expression on his face.

"Yeah?"

"It sounds like you believe that lying is excusable in a relationship."

"What do you mean?" He found himself unable to look away.

"That you want your feelings assuaded by a lie."

"I don't understand why it's a big deal," he rolled his eyes, looking around the table. Momoi and Aomine both were eating fries like they were popcorn, Kuroko sipping his shake in his front-row seat. Murasakibara yawned. He'd already given up listening.

"Kise." Midorima said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"What did Kasamatsu-kun say when he broke up with you?" Momoi asked through a mouthful of fries.

Kise frowned. "That he needed someone more mature… I don't get it! I have two jobs and pay rent, what more does he want? He should've explained better…"

...

There really is no helping him, they all thought.

***

Kise Ryouta had turned twenty-one just a week ago, and not to be rude, but he thought it was pretty terrible of Kasamatsu-senpai to dump him immediately after his birthday.

He was what unknowing folk might have called a high-flyer or an overachiever. Those who knew him called him talented, or perhaps even a hard worker. Those who knew him, to whom he was known, called him an asshole.

Since middle school taught him the value of friendship and having a good time, and high school taught him work-life balance and the benefit of teamwork, the nice natural step could easily have been to learn how to look out for his fellow man. Perhaps even how to nurture a friendship beyond three years. He didn't take that route.

Kuroko's pull wasn't strong enough on the Generation of Miracles to bind them in motivation the way that Kagami did and now that he was no longer a rival -- his basketball skills degrading, Seirin couldn't place higher than semifinals in interhighs -- they each drifted their separate ways like billiards on the table. Kise's path, he figured, was one he could decide for himself, with nobody's direction. Not even his boyfriend's.

Three years, he thought sadly, and for what? To get a vaguely apologetic breakup in person then a follow-up by text? Is this honestly how long-term relationships ended? It had been his first; no girls he dated lasted longer than a fortnight once they'd gotten the glamour and clout they were after from hanging on his arm. It was so, so awfully anticlimactic.

Kasamatsu-senpai would probably do fine without him, he thought miserably. He didn't need Kise to praise him and look out for him the way he did for him as a kouhai, then as a boyfriend. He was cool like that. So stoic. Kise always felt like a happy puppy basking in the attention and he figured Kasamatsu felt just as content with Kise's eyes on him, his time with him. Who wouldn't?

Right, it was a terrible shock to hear those words come from Midorimacchi. Of course he and Takao had been dating for _ever_ but he had yet to profess anything serious, right? You're either boyfriends, or you're not, or you're married. The way he talked about lying sounded so personal, like Kise was lying to him.

Too bad, Midorimacchi, you're not going to bring me down!

But then, he'd think about Kasamatsu's heartbreaking words again.

_"I need somebody more mature… Someone who'll make time for me."_

Well...

He was busy! 

He had work, and all these appointments… He couldn't just goof off at the campus gymnasium every week and cheer on somebody who's about to play basketball for a living. The cheers and waves from the auditorium were basically background noise to Kise, he didn't see how it would help his performance. And anyway -- it was now so long to trek out to see him, it was either staying at Kasamatsu's cramped student digs for the night or leave early. He must have understood the logistics sucked, so how could he call him immature? He was doing the best he could!

Even Murasakibaracchi had called him lousy, and he'd withdrawn from the dating scene once Himuro had graduated. What did that guy have that Kise didn't? Pockets full of snacks?

Maybe that was an idea; Kasamatsu always liked to drink Pocari right after practice and you could always tell if it was lukewarm instead of cold from the vending-machine, because he'd pull a face.

Anyway.

Clearly Kasamatsu needed somebody who was less busy than Kise was. A housewife, he guessed. _Clearly_ he had better things to do than his air steward part-time modelling free-from-debt independent boyfriend.

Kise Ryouta did not know himself.

***

Moriyama adjusted his sleek hairdo one more time in the mirror, then stood back to check it in the hotel bedroom light. It was too dark to see if the new studio shampoo really gave him the sheen that the bottle promised, but his hotel roomie didn't want the main light on. 

“Does this stuff make _your_ hair greasy, Kise?”

His roomie didn’t look up, that much he could see in the mirror. “Hmm? The Schwarzkopf stuff? Only if I use it more than twice in a row.”

That didn’t exactly fill him with confidence, but Moriyama shrugged and gave it another comb-through. It wasn't often that he and Kise were together in the same shoot, let alone a trip out of town, both of them only modelling part-time; although it sucked that neither of them could bring home a date this way, the only comfort he had was catching up with his old teammate. Although even that, lately, had soured, with recent events.

"Y’know… I know you’re not crazy on talking about it, but to be honest, it's kinda weird to hear your side of the story," Moriyama said as he turned to look at Kise, lounging on his twin bed and scrolling dead-eyed on his phone as the facemask activated on his skin. He only hummed back in response, then as Moriyama opened the curtains to see if there was an outside light he murmured;

"What d'you mean, 'my side'?"

"Well, 'cause I saw Captain 'round that time, after you two broke up. I like coming to his practice. Cute girls on his campus."

"Oh, really," Kise said passively.

"...Y'know, it's probably best I don't say anything after all, out of respect--"

"Tell me!" Kise whined, suddenly animated in his dressing-gown, "What did he say about me?!"

Bingo.

"I mean, he saaaid," Moriyama started slowly until he saw Kise's eyes on him, "That you never really came to visit him once you graduated high school. Like you were all over him when he was at college and you were in second, third year, then it completely stopped."

Kise frowned, breaking the facemask's dry surface with little fissures on his forehead. 

“He said that?”

“Yeah. I remember that, too, though.”

“Well, that’s a weird way of looking at it,” Kise sighed and flopped back on the bed.

“That’s why I said it was interesting to hear your side of the story.” Moriyama laughed, “Oh, not that I was following your relationship closely, or anything like that. I just care about Captain.”

“So do I,” Kise blurted out, then paused, staring at the ceiling. “Did. ...Do. I don’t know where everyone gets this idea that I didn’t care about him!”

“Prolly the fact I saw more of him than you did and you were dating him.” Moriyama said blandly, rubbing in his face-cream for the evening. Kise stared at the back of his head in the mirror until he shrugged and said, “Not literally. I’m straight.”

“Sure, sure…” Kise couldn’t roll his eyes hard enough at hearing him say that for the thousandth time this year.

"You sure you just didn't like having an older boyfriend?" Moriyama looked at him, "Like, you think that he treated you nicer ‘cause of the age difference, or something?"

Kise thought.

He really thought about that one.

"Man, if you've gotta think that hard about it…" Moriyama sighed after a silent ten seconds.

"Hey, give me a minute! Geez."

"Nothin' wrong with dating a senpai, but if you're still calling them that after graduating, _you know._ "

"But he's still a senpai," Kise complained.

“But, you stopped getting stars in your eyes once you graduated, right? When you reached the age he was, suddenly he wasn’t so cool any more?”

“That’s not it at all,” Kise frowned, then as a few dried flakes of face-mask crumbled down into his dressing-gown he headed into the ensuite to wash it off.

“I guess to everyone else it kinda looked like you got bored of him once you were both on the same level, so to speak. Both graduated.”

“How many people have you been talking to about us?!” Kise called from the bathroom. Moriyama smiled, held up his hands guiltily.

“Alright, but aren’t you used to gossip about you now? With all your fancy titles. Mr. Kaijou’s Ace...”

Kise threw the towel in his face as he stormed out the bathroom. “If it’s gossip, then it doesn’t mean anything!”

“I didn’t mean it to _mean_ anything. Really, Kise.”

He shot Moriyama a pitiful look, his face pink from rubbing, before throwing himself back on his twin bed and staring at his phone, back to scrolling endlessly. “Good, ‘cause I don’t wanna talk about what did or didn’t happen between me and him.”

“You don’t?” Moriyama sat on the end of the bed. “Seriously, _you_ , the chattiest guy I know?”

He thought about it. He tried to think about it honestly. But he couldn’t visualise an ending to the conversation that didn’t still wind up with him, single, and Kasamatsu who had broken his heart. There wasn’t much point going over it. There wasn’t another point of view that he could see from his position, no matter who he spoke to about it. He felt cold. No -- left in the cold.

“Not right now. It still hurts.” he sighed.

Just then, the bedsprings creaked below him as his coworker turned, kneeling on the bed. He looked down at Kise sympathetically, but his head was tilted, that expression verging ever so slightly into pity, or maybe tiredness.

“You’re acting like some heartbroken fangirl.”

Kise rolled his eyes. “Sure you’d prefer a girl sharing your room than me, wouldn’t you.”

“Oh, yeah, I’d trade you in for a Vogue model any day,” Moriyama faced him properly, and from where Kise lay he only saw his face in shadow from the bright overhead light of the hotel room, the white ceiling bringing out how fine and long Moriyama’s eyelashes were. His glossy hair. All the things that let him tick the boxes that Kise didn’t for tall, dark and handsome.

As if he didn’t know exactly what was going on.

Kise sighed gently through his nose and became keenly aware of only wearing his boxer trunks under the towel bathrobe. “You’re looking at me like I am one.”

“What can I say, I’ve got a good imagination,” Moriyama smiled enigmatically, and Kise felt his body lulled under the weight of him kneeling over him on the bed, the springs giving way, a warm hand pressed to the back of his thigh. Maybe it should have been more of a surprise, but honestly, he never once thought that anybody who felt the need to clarify that he was straight as often as his teammate did could actually possibly be that. Kise couldn’t be bothered to complain, and hid his wary expression behind his phone, still clutched in his hands. 

“So, like, Moriyama… is this you waiting until I was single?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“No way, this is totally spontaneous.”

“What if I said I’m still thinking about--” Kise licked his lips, suddenly dry, “--about Kasamatsu?”

“I mean, I figured,” he said, tucking his knee under Kise’s thigh, and he could no longer tell which brush of fabric was his own bathrobe or Moriyama’s-- “But you gotta have your awful, terrible rebound at some point, right? You’d just make a mess of yourself if you tried to approach him again, you know that, don’t you?”

“I’m not gonna--”

“Right? I guessed you’re too proud for it, but you’d want to. And if someone like you gets into a scrape and looks bad, it makes me look bad too, y’know,” Moriyama said matter-of-factly as he pushed forward, over Kise, an arm planted by his shoulder. Kise could feel his freshly-showered heat just from that distance. After a moment of avoiding his eyes Kise flung his phone aside and tried to look at him properly, a stare-off, if Moriyama didn’t look so cool and unbothered by pinning him to the bed.

“You’re trying to stop me going back to him… for looks?”

Moriyama smiled. “Worse people you could sleep with right now. If you’re the same now as you were back then, you’re one of those types who’s pretty desperate not to be lonely, aren’t you?”

 _He’s right_ , Kise thought with a mental sigh, as Moriyama’s knee started to push against him. “Who taught you to manipulate people like this? Your own teammate?”

“It’s not manipulation, I’m just benching you for now.”

Kise scoffed, glancing aside, but in an instant Moriyama was tilting his head back to facing him with a little nudge of his knuckle. “How about-- for tonight, I’ll be Captain. Until you’re over it. And then from tomorrow we’ll never speak about this ever again.”

The suggestion nearly had Kise’s eyes watering, if he wasn’t looking directly up at his closest teammate and wanted to keep a straight face, but his heart twinged. 

One more night with Kasamatsu.

The face above him certainly wasn’t anything like Kasamatsu’s, slender and willowy rather than his ex’s strong jaw and cheekbones, soft eyes and a hard expression to match his strong tone, his firmness with him since the beginning, but trying out the idea in his mind like dipping his toes into the sea washed over their surroundings, like he was already gripping the idea tightly, not letting go until it was all used up.

One more night, the night they hadn’t had to say goodbye.

He was twenty-one now, he was the adult he’d wanted Kasamatsu to see.

“Closure, you mean,” Kise said quietly.

“Yeah! That’s what it is.” Moriyama nodded, “Although, it’d help me if I can pretend you’re a girl…”

“Senpai would never--”

“Look, it’ll make it easier for me, okay?”

Kise frowned. “Don’t be a dick. If you didn’t think my face was good enough we wouldn’t be in this position!”

Moriyama shrugged, wearing a knowing smile. “Where’s your makeup case?”

Pinning his coworker to the bed turned into Moriyama gently uncapping tubes of eyeliner, lipgloss, and leaning forward not to push Kise down but to apply it ever so gently to his face. Gazing up at Moriyama, Kise was lost in the sensation of the tip of the brush against his lips, always so close to his teeth, tickling him so gently--

He couldn’t remember the last time someone was this delicate with him, while having him in such a compromising position. After a few silent minutes, Moriyama leant back slightly, and Kise could feel him already hard between his thighs.

“That already looks better.”

Kise smacked his lips. “Your turn, now.”

“Me? On my face?”

“I’m returning the favour!”

Kise sat up, wrapping his legs around Moriyama’s hips, pushing his hair out of his face as he drew with the eyebrow pencil until he was satisfied. It was pretty funny, honestly, to imagine Kasamatsu’s features on such a different face as Moriyama’s -- not that he could reduce him to just a pair of eyebrows, but it had Kise grinning as he filled them in. 

“Uh-huh, I get it,” Moriyama said beneath his hands.

“See, now we’re both in character,” Kise laughed and put away the makeup, admiring his handiwork. Moriyama smiled, looking just as pleased with himself at Kise’s new look.

“So, what did he call you in bed?” he began.

Kise blushed, despite himself.

“I’m not gonna say it,”

“Do you want this to work or not?” Moriyama smirked, and was it Kise’s imagination, or was he putting on a false-irritated tone? A little addition of harshness?

“My given name, of course!”

“Oh, it only takes three years to call you Ryouta?”

Kise squirmed. 

“Ryouta,” Moriyama repeated, just to see him grow redder.

“N-No, it’s weird, go back to calling me Kise.”

“Alright, alright, Kise it is.”

Then, Kise took a breath and plunged into that sea. 

“Kasamatsu-senpai,” he whispered, unable to maintain eye contact.

If Moriyama was cringing, he didn’t see it, for his vision filling with black hair as he descended to kiss along his neck, pulling back his bathrobe until his shoulder was exposed, and then all Kise heard was his favourite sound, his favourite person, echoing like a goodbye.

“Kise…”

It shouldn’t have taken him in so much, not really, his warm, thin lips pressing into his collarbone, the flick of his tongue, like _he_ would have done back when they used to take things slow, when he was careful with Kise despite being so strong-handed during practice. The touch dancing along his ribs was electricity, far more of a shock than any rough kick in front of his teammates. Loving in private.

He hardly ever said Kise’s name during sex, but the rare times he did--

“Hey, Kise...”

It felt so real, he couldn’t just be imagining it. Kise couldn’t help arching against him, his whole being on fire suddenly, like the tropical heat was blasting them.

“Kasamatsu-senpai, ah--”

***

On the plane on the way back, Moriyama insisted on the aisle seat so he could check out the air stewardesses, casually, leaning an elbow on the armrest and ordering something every time one passed by. Of course he did. Kise would have liked to doze off against the window but he had the unfortunate place of the middle seat. It was only a short flight but he pulled on a sleep eyemask, combed his hair back, and pretended to nap with his head tilted back.

Sure enough, they both acted like nothing had happened the night before. The morning’s shoot had gone perfectly once they’d wiped off last night’s makeup before being made up again by the assistants, and Kise had to hand it to him, Moriyama had been respectful enough not to leave a single mark on his body. In exchange he’d mentally promised not to grab his hair in case the shampoo made it greasy after all. A tidy and sanitary fuck without a single trace, like they’d left it all in that fantasy world in the hotel room where Kasamatsu still loved him -- he guessed that was the entire point, like a drunk makeout. That excused it. Just once, and it would be out of his system. 

Right?

Despite it, Kise was left with a slight thrill, just feeling Moriyama’s knee bouncing next to his in the narrow plane seats. He’d never done anything like that before -- never roleplayed in bed. Which was weird to think about, because…

Well, because it was him, you know?

It would be so extremely narrow-minded to think that his perfect copy abilities were limited to the basketball court.

Not that it had ever really crossed his mind to use them like that, not in so many words -- _hey, Kasamatsu-senpai, can we roleplay_ \-- because being with him was pretty much his entire fantasy for a while, for a long time, or so he thought, but he’d definitely tried to change his own approach more than once. For fun!

 _‘Don’t…’_ Kasamatsu had said to him once, a hand flat on his bared stomach, looking at him with a confused frown, _‘Don’t put on that voice.’_

 _‘What voice?’_ he’d said and snapped out of the sugar-sweet reverie of a second-year student.

He hadn’t been able to really answer him, so Kise wasn’t quite sure what it was he’d done-- maybe just been more enthusiastic than normal, or tried to ramp up his flirting to the max. Kise thought it was cute to put on a persona more apt for a kouhai. Not all the time, only sometimes, to fluster him.

But maybe he didn’t like it after all.

Far from putting his busy thoughts on the breakup at rest, Kise felt like he’d been left with a thousand questions, hungry for answers. Open to the opportunity of learning.

***

Holding out for somebody to pick up the phone at that exact moment wasn’t his style. On the train platform, halfway home, Kise was only half paying attention to when the next one was due, the digital station display ticking down the minutes to when it switched over to the post-midnight service, fewer trains each hour. His thumb hovered over Kasamatsu’s number on his phone. 

It wasn’t him, but he didn’t know what this ‘him’ was meant to be. The kind of Kise who slept with an old teammate mere days after being dumped by his first boyfriend. The kind who wore lipstick and eyeliner to make a straight guy happy and liked it.

He couldn’t keep it together on a phone call, he thought, so he swapped to the messaging app instead and, without a second’s further hesitation, hit record.

“Hey, Kasamatsu-senpai. Can we talk sometime?”

The voice message sent with a whoosh, and he imagined his words flying over through the still night air of Tokyo, carrying some weight to them. After a moment an announcement rang out through the station for the approaching train, gliding its way towards the platform. Its lighting cast a glare over his phone screen.

Well. He wasn’t going to wait any more. Moriyama was right; he sounded heartbroken. He had to do something about it.

“Actually, can you just answer me something?” He recorded again, holding the receiver to his mouth as he watched the train’s doors hang open just a few moments longer for any late-night stragglers; the suitcase handle felt warm under his palm, “Can you tell me… what I did wrong? Or maybe, if there’s something I could have changed, what would it be? If it was something I did I wish you’d tell me.”

Then, with the notification sound of that message flying away again, he decided, fuck it. People already thought he was in the wrong. May as well show how bad he felt about it all. “You’d never hesitate to tell me if it was something wrong in my practice, so how come you never said anything? It’s not like you can’t kick me and tell me even if we’re not on the court. You know I need that sometimes! Needed. Anyway, I hope this didn’t ruin your night,” he said sincerely, then pocketed his phone.

He didn’t check again until he was almost home, standing under the streetlamp on the corner by his apartment, to see a single notification.

A voice message, one of the only ones he’d had that year. The last one had been a new year’s greeting. Kise couldn’t remember if they’d simply not ever had the occasion to talk like that; whether they’d spent more time together, or they’d texted instead. He used to favourite messages that he wanted to keep, early on. He now couldn’t see the last time he’d favourited one in their chat history.

_“Hey, Kise.”_

The voice sounded tired. There was a pause.

 _“I’m sorry I didn’t say more. It was really hard, you know.”_ Another pause, like it was genuinely difficult for him to say it -- or maybe he just didn’t want to break the message into multiple snatches, the way he used to complain that Kise sent too many texts at once and it stressed him out. The silence dragged out, and Kise felt like his chest was being crushed. Just hurry up and say something already.

_“It’d just be a cop-out if I said ‘it’s not you, it’s me’. But… you didn’t seem like you wanted to see me much. And, this is going to hurt, and I’m so sorry, but I stopped noticing you never turning up to things. You stopped apologising for not turning up, too. I just assumed you were never going to be there for me.”_

Kise held his breath like he was searching for a break in the conversation, a conversation that Kasamatsu was having with an imaginary ex-boyfriend, softly crying at the revelations, weeping for him to come back, the same way he’d fired off his half-angry demands into the blue of the chat like that to the idea of a stone-hearted captain who’d never bothered to communicate to him. But the audio continued.

_“I’m really sorry, Kise. I don’t want to hurt you like this. I hope we can still be friends.”_

“Friends?” Kise spat just as the message ended. “ _Friends_?!”

They’d never been friends! They’d never been friendly in that way he saw Kagami and Kuroko partner up, fistbumps and smiles before they learned that they could hold hands too; he and Kasamatsu had taken the leap, like a girl lingering around her crush’s classroom just for a glimpse of him, straight from there to a love letter and a confession and an acceptance. What made him think that they could go from teammates to lovers to friends, something they’d never done once?

“Don’t be stupid!” He cried at the screen, even without recording, even without caring if his words weren’t to be heard, “We were never… You’re nothing like-- like my friends! You’re my senpai! My teammate-- I don’t… I couldn’t be friends with…”

With someone like him?

“After a breakup like that! After you didn’t tell me! After you didn’t try--”

But wasn’t _he_ the one who didn’t try?

“As if… as if you’d want me back! You’re lying!” 

Kise’s chest hurt.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better!”

 _Can’t you just be sorry for me, Midorimacchi?_ His own voice echoed back to him. _That doesn't matter, it's enough to just help a friend out._

His head throbbed; the LED streetlamp was glaring, he told himself, making his eyes dry, making them well up and tears drop to his phone screen.

“You mean it wasn’t worth it anymore?”

Wasn’t worth Kise’s time. He was _so busy_ after all.

“Kasamatsu-senpai…”

He crouched, hugging his knees, the lamp’s glow a spotlight on his back, and wept until he had a headache.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haizaki makes his terrible, terrible appearance. Kise gains some direction.

It occurred to Kise a few days after the trip that he didn’t really know what closure felt like, so he googled it. ‘Closure’ was something you got when you properly said goodbye, apparently. Painful, but it put things to rest, forgiveness and understanding and mourning and all that. So that was what Moriyama meant -- and certainly how it felt, at the time -- when he instigated that moment in the hotel room. 

He wondered if maybe he’d ruined his intentions by messaging Kasamatsu so shortly afterwards. Was there a ‘right’ way to end relationships? He wasn’t really sure; other than his first now-ex-boyfriend he’d never really dated anyone, unless he counted that one fan who’d insisted on greeting him and clinging on to him until his bootleg version came along.

Haizaki -- wow, it had been a while since he’d thought about him. Being dumped was putting all sorts of weird memories and thoughts in his head. Kise wondered if he was dating.

Like a crashing wave, what Moriyama had started had kicked up all sorts of questions, sand swirling with little pearl oysters, all those things that had been resting under the surface. Looking at everybody in a new light. Moriyama doing roleplay in bed. Thinking about him dating. About his friends dating. 

Emerging from the relationship left him feeling like it was his first day at a new job.

Kise arrived at the agency building a little earlier than necessary for his shoot and waited in the lobby just outside the main studio with a takeout order in hand. After a short wait sipping his coffee over a copy of a free magazine, their in-house edition, Moriyama emerged, ruffled from pulling on his own shirt at last, their usual photographer clapping his shoulder in thanks.

“Hey,” he waved until he caught his attention, and Moriyama grabbed a seat with him, flopping back into the lobby chair. Eyeliner lingered in the corners of his eyes, giving them an angular slope. It looked good. “Long shoot?”

“Hey, buddy. Nah, just intense. A lot of close-ups. My eyes’re going crazy,” he sighed. “Is that for me?”

“Americano, coconut milk,” Kise grinned and handed over the second takeout cup. Moriyama held it up above his head with both hands like he’d won a trophy.

“Sweet nectar,” he sighed, and took a sip, “I’m alive again... Hey, you’re on in the afternoon, right, Kise?”

“Yeah! Just wanted to say hi before heading in.”

“Uh huh,” Moriyama said, looking at him over the lid of the cup as he drank quietly.

“...”

“...”

_ssssiiip_

Kise took a breath. “Aaaand…”

“Yeah, okay, I knew it,” Moriyama sighed and melted further into the soft leather chair, “It was a mistake to say we wouldn’t talk about it after all.”

“No, I don’t mind _that_!” Kise hissed as if his whisper was any more subtle than his usual pitch, “No, I just wanted to ask you something… Like, I ended up talking to Kasamatsu-senpai in the end the other night anyway, and--”

Moriyama groaned. “Seriously? After all my hard work?”

“It wasn’t to get back together, just so you know!”

“Alright,” he took another sip of coffee as though it was the only thing keeping him from beaming out of his body, worn away by bright studio lights and his coworker’s personal drama, “Still, not a good move! He’s gonna think you’re desperate!”

“I know that _now_! It was for closure!”

“Oh my god,” he pressed a hand to his forehead, “I regret getting involved in this.”

Kise huffed. “You started it!”

“What did you wanna ask, then?”

“Oh, right,” Kise flushed pink, thumbing at the lid of his coffee cup, “Right, so, like, I was wondering how… you managed to know him so well.”

“Huh?”

He didn’t want to say it out loud in his workplace, Kise thought, but he was here already. “Like… you played him pretty well. In bed. If it’s anything like how I know how to copy things… How come you know that about him…?”

“Ah,” Moriyama said, then he said “Hmm,”, and looked thoughtful. 

Kise gripped his coffee cup. “...Look, if you were sleeping with him while I--”

“I like _girls_ , Kise. It wasn’t anything like that, I swear.”

“Promise?” Kise raised an eyebrow.

“I promise I have never witnessed Captain’s dick or balls.” Moriyama said solemnly as he sat up straight.

“Urgh. Okay. But seriously, I’m super curious now!”

“I just guessed, that’s all.”

“Really?”

Moriyama shrugged. “Really really. Just, the basic, whatever. I wasn’t about to use my best tricks on you. He’s not exactly a guy I’d go to for sex tips and you’re not a cutie I want to bend in--”

“You’re nasty, Moriyama.”

“Says you, _kouhai_ ,” he grinned. “Can we never talk about this ever again now?”

“I’d love that,” Kise laughed, drumming his fingers on his cup.

“I swear I was only trying to help.”

“I’m sure that’s what you say to all the girls…”

***

“...Is what he said. Isn’t that a weird thing to say about someone’s boyfriend?” Kise repeated. 

Momoi looked thoughtful; Kuroko held back for a moment, petting the cat in his lap, a little round ginger thing, before trying to be honest. “It would be stranger if he said that while you were still dating.”

“Tetsu-kun, don’t remind him,” Momoi tried to whisper, but Kise shrugged.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I think I’m… well, not over it, but I’m just thinking about things. You know?”

“I bet,” Momoi stirred her iced tea at the tall lunch table, her legs crossed on the bar stool, “Three years’ worth of things to think about. There’s nothing wrong with talking about it.”

“Mmm…” 

Kise told them frankly about his rebound, but he’d left the part about roleplaying, because he wasn’t about to tell his dearest friends what had _actually_ happened -- more for Moriyama’s sake than his own, he thought -- but he still wanted their opinions. It hadn’t ceased to bother him since he’d said it.

That he’d just guessed, or whatever. It didn’t seem right somehow.

“I mean,” Momoi said carefully and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “You can tell us what it was he was doing if you want a point of reference…”

Kise described it as best he could, leaving out the makeup and the names and such, while Kuroko looked like he wanted to escape his mortal body. When he finished he looked between them both searchingly. “Well? It’s not something you could just guess, right?”

“Kise-kun…” Kuroko seemed to want to hold his breath.

“It sounds like he didn’t have to use very much imagination…” Momoi did her best to sound tactful, bright pink in the cheeks.

“Huh? You mean he was lying?!”

“No, Kise-kun, he’s saying he was the most vanilla of vanilla. Missionary. Doing the most basic thing you can.”

“... Really?”

Momoi put her face in her hands, either out of embarrassment out of talking about it to her friend or out of pity. Kuroko shifted, the cat in his lap yawning.

“But, wait, Kurokocchi, how come you know all of…”

“That has to be a joke, right?” For once his subtle expression changed, his eyebrows tilting in disbelief as he faced Kise.

“Eh… Ki-chan, you didn’t know?”

It was Kuroko’s turn to look pitiful. “I’ve been dating since I was sixteen…”

Kise started to panic. “I mean, same, or, like, same-ish! But--”

Kuroko put his face in his hands. That made two of them, his friends, at Momoi’s table, mourning him.

“Kise-kun, you’re telling us that you’ve had bad sex for three years?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I mean, we did handjobs too if we were in a rush!”

“Oh, my god.”

“Ki-chan!”

“You, of all people…”

“What, what? Eh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Around the table Momoi and Kuroko looked like they were about to burst into tears at such a wasted opportunity. All those fans of the famous KiseRyou would surely have been bitterly disappointed if they finally had the celebrity encounter of their dreams. He simply didn’t know-- no, he hadn’t learnt very well. It should have been a dead giveaway the last time they’d happened to party at his place and Aomine complained about the lack of porn under his bed. _‘You’re so old-fashioned’_ , Kise had said at the time, rolling his eyes, ‘ _Nudes are what people do nowadays!’_

There didn’t seem to be an end to how little this man communicated.

Like a one-way street…

Momoi tried to change the atmosphere, slapping her hands on the glass tabletop. “Ki-chan, it’s okay, it’s because you were with him for so long… Sometimes you just fall into a routine, I guess! That kind of thing happens in couples sometimes!”

Kuroko looked at her coldly until she blushed, and then stared at Kise.

“I don’t want to be the one telling you this, Kise-kun, but communication is really important. If you’re not getting what you want from your partner--”

“Oh,” he interrupted, “Is that why it was so good with Moriyama? Because he asked me things…”

“Yes, I imagine so,” Kuroko replied through gritted teeth.

“Ki-chan, I can’t believe you’re this much of an airhead…”

Kise burned bright red. “K-Kurokocchi, Momocchi, you’re treating me like I’m dumb ‘cause I’m not, like, kinky or whatever.”

“No, no way! That’s not what we meant at all!” Momoi shook her head, flustered, but unable to look him in the face.

“Put it this way--” Kuroko said, “How many times did you two talk about _the sex you were having_?”

Kise held his breath, his mind racing through the past few years, the fun occasions, the birthdays and little getaways from Kasamatsu’s college digs.

The conversations?

Oh.

“I…”

They talked about a lot, not _about_ a lot, and they _did_ a lot, but.

“Or about your relationship?” Kuroko added. “For example, what you were going to do when you graduated? Or when he graduates from university?”

Kise felt like he was going to burst, a bright red party balloon on a hot day. The ice in his glass jangled as it melted under his hands.

“No, we…”

You don’t need to talk about things if everything’s okay, do you?

Kise thought everything was fine. 

Did Kasamatsu think everything was fine?

No, he didn’t. He’d said it plainly enough, after all.

Kise had really had enough of crying, and although his body didn’t seem to want to offer any tears just then, a headache felt like it was threatening to start another self-piteous crying fit. Kuroko wouldn’t want that, as much as he would be willing to comfort him. He felt like everyone must have been thinking he was better than he was. He’d never felt that way before because he knew _exactly_ how good he was. At things. At most things.

People had to be his one weakness, or he wouldn’t have gotten dumped, he felt.

Most of all, Kise just felt like an idiot.

“I’m really stupid, aren’t I?” he said quietly, staring at his diluted iced tea, the ice long since melted in the heat.

“Oh, Ki-chan, don’t say that…” Momoi rubbed his back from where she sat next to him, looking on the verge of tears herself -- how close she was to him, to her teammates, especially those who actually dared to show their feelings. 

“You’re not stupid, Kise-kun,” Kuroko said and reached out, too, to pet him on the head just like back at the restaurant, but unlike his grabby-hands back then, Kise stayed still and let it happen. Kuroko had such small fingers, he thought to himself, face down at the table. Everything would be easier if he could just be a pet in his lap. “Emotionally stupid, maybe, but you can’t help it if you didn’t know.”

It stung a little, but Kuroko was right, he told himself. “I should have realised it was dying out sooner,” he sighed.

Momoi squeezed his arm, then trailed her hand down to hold Kise’s. “It’s happened now. And you’re here with us, and you know you can ask us anything, Ki-chan.”

“Thanks, you two… ugh, I know I already upset Midorimacchi. He doesn’t send messages in the group chat when I’m online, did you notice that?! Neither does Aominecchi!”

“He did get cross, didn’t he.” Kuroko said thoughtfully, as he stood up, lifting the cat delicately onto the floor, which meowed and curled around his legs.

“Well, Dai-chan’s terrible at replying, you know that,” Momoi added and scooped it up like a baby. “Is it that time already? Minmin, say bye to Tetsu-kun,”

Kise couldn’t help smiling, watching her wave its little pink paw at him and Kuroko wave back playfully. 

“Didn’t know you had weekend classes, Kurokocchi.”

“It’s an optional supplementary. Pre-exam study,” he replied as he picked up his messenger bag. He was in his last year of university, the same as Akashi, with the campus luckily close to both Momoi and Akashi’s apartments -- or perhaps they’d happened to move in closer to him after he’d started attending. Kise never really thought about it until then, watching Minmin the cat purring intensely and gaze at Kuroko as he put his shoes back on.

“Guess I’d better get going too, then,” Kise sighed. “Momocchi, Kurokocchi, thanks for listening to me complain…”

“Happy to help,” Momoi smiled, bouncing the cat in her arms. The super-cute sight struck Kise with a little heart-throb; he couldn’t help leaning in and plopping a little kiss on the top of her head. It was impulsive and she stared up wordlessly, blushing, at him, the same way he pulled away in uncertainty, before they both giggled softly. They were close enough for these silly motions, he figured. Didn’t mean anything serious.

“I hope you feel better soon, Kise-kun,” Kuroko called from the porch. Kise’s face lit up.

“I’ll be sure to come to you if I have any more questions!”

Kuroko cringed. “Please don’t.” He said quietly, then headed out the door. That left him and Momoi alone.

“Seriously…” Kise breathed, “I had no idea Kurokocchi was into that stuff, you know?”

“Not everybody wants to talk about their sex life, Ki-chan, you know that,” Momoi shrugged, crouching to let the cat back down to the ground. Kise put on a suspicious face.

“Hmmm… I think you two don’t have any problems talking about it to each other, if you ask me.”

It worked, because she shot him a secretive frown and followed the cat towards the porch, putting on slippers. She’d only had Minmin about a year, and already he was big enough that she could walk him up and down the stairs, being on the third floor above a café. What a good owner she was, Kise thought. To be the kind of person that even something as errant and self-possessed as a cat would follow behind her like a well-bred puppy. Kise found his sunglasses again, dipping down into the porch to grab his shoes.

“It might be nice to just spend some time alone,” Momoi said gently, smiling, inches away from his face in the tiny space. “Really, on your own. Getting to know yourself the way you are now.”

“But I start thinking about the sad stuff when I’m alone,” Kise complained gently. As if she knew that was going to happen she lifted her hand and cupped his cheek.

“I know! I know. It’s hard, but it has to happen, Ki-chan. Or you’ll just make the same mistakes again.” she looked a little sad as she said it, then added, “Just like how Tetsu-kun… Akashi-kun… we were all apart before we made up together again, right? It was hard for me, it was really lonely when Dai-chan didn’t want to talk to me but it was needed, I think, when we could play together again that time on Tetsu-kun’s birthday… Everybody became their own person in their teams. And now we can talk like this again.”

“Whoa, you’re so mature, Momocchi! When did you get so grown-up about these things?”

Momoi laughed, hiding her smile until she could tease it down into less of an embarrassed grin. “I had a lot of time to think for myself while you boys were busy running around and fighting. Maybe you should do more of that so you get used to it?”

“W-Wah, and you’re not holding back, either…”

“Eheh. Someone has to keep you in line now you don’t have a captain, right?” She giggled.

“Promise you won’t get as scary as Nijimura, okay?”

“Only if you misbehave, Ki-chan,” Momoi huffed.

  
  


***

“Oh, Ryouta.” Haizaki didn’t break his gaze from the arcade machine’s screen. “Haven’t seen your ugly face in a while. Thought a rich bitch like you’d be too busy to blow off steam here.”

“Wow, talk about ‘happy to see me’! You’ve not changed a bit.” 

Haizaki grunted and mashed the gamepad. Kise lowered his sunglasses to observe him properly under the arcade’s poor lighting and neon glow. He’d lost the cornrows since the last time he’d seen him properly at the Winter Cup, thank God, and it looked like he was trying to grow his hair out; it was dark, darker than the gray he used to sport back in Teikou, straight and in a thin ponytail just past his shoulders. Whatever he was playing, he seemed to be struggling -- the screen flashed with gunshots like his character was taking damage.

Haizaki pounded the directional pad with a fist, giving the unit a kick for good measure, then whirled around to stare at Kise a mere few inches away from his face “Whaddya want?”

“Oh, I can’t just hang out here?” Kise replied sweetly. “Don’t like people watching you?”

Haizaki scoffed and patted him-- no, more like slapped at his shoulder in some weird adolescent form of greeting. “Fine, keep it to yourself. You got any cash on you, Ryouta?”

“Ehhhh? You haven’t moved on from taking people’s lunch money?”

Before Kise’s very eyes Haizaki grinned, and jingled a few shiny coins in his hand, tossing and catching them in the air. Kise suddenly realised his wallet was missing. 

“Shougo-kun, you--”

“Looks like someone let a little fame get to their head,” Haizaki smirked and threw the leather wallet back into Kise’s hands. It didn’t seem like any of the notes or cards had been taken. “Thanks for covering our game, hey?”

“ _Our_ game?” But the sound of the coins jingling quickly turned to clicking against one another in Haizaki’s palm.

“Well, either you play against me or you tell me what it is you want.” He strode off further into the arcade towards some shooters, and grabbed one of the wired-up pistol controllers on a two-player unit. That seemed like enough pause from Kise for him to decide, because Haizaki smiled at him over his shoulder, his face backlit by the screen’s harsh light. He curled a finger around the bright red plastic trigger. “Yeah, thought it wouldn’t be that straightforward. Never is with you, huh. So, c’mere. Let’s catch up a little.”

It sounded just a little suspicious, the invitation of a mouse to a cat’s outstretched paw. The same kind of voice that Haizaki taunted him in on the court, in their blazingly different uniforms, when they’d once worn the same sky blue. But Kise suspected that was what he wanted, anyway. Different. Somebody different. He shrugged off his jacket and picked up the blue pistol, spinning the trigger-guard idly around his finger.

“You sure you can talk and play at the same time?” He said, looking down at the controls.

“Sure I can,” Haizaki grinned, thumbing a few coins into the machine, “I’ll just keep a close eye on you, _Ryouta_.”

***

He wasn’t sure exactly which part of the conversation had led to this. Specifically, ‘this’, Haizaki’s crummy apartment, his unmade bed, the half-drawn blinds casting a dimness across the room that felt dirtier than the arcade and the sounds surrounding him just as chaotic; his own ragged breathing, Haizaki grunting behind him, the creak of the wooden bedframe with every push and thrust of his cock inside him. It felt seriously surreal to Kise-- to be bent over, naked on his knees on someone else’s bed, a hand on the back of his neck to make sure he didn’t get away. And he was only just starting to think of possibilities beyond the black and white of either being together forever with his boyfriend or being cool and single for the rest of his life. This, this was in the grey, it wasn’t quite something that could be real to him.

“Can’t hear you,” Haizaki said behind him, his thumb digging into the bone behind Kise’s ear as he slowed his pace.

It _had_ to be real, or else it was a dream, Kise thought, and he’d never, ever dream something as lowly like this would happen with his old rival. He hissed in pain as the grip got tighter, then he heard no more warning than a “Hmph,” before Haizaki grabbed his hair and wrenched it back just as he pushed harder, hitting Kise deep, deeper than he was prepared for. And he couldn’t help letting a noise slip out, bitter and sweet because yes, it _hurt_ , but in a way that didn’t feel-- that didn’t feel like a grudge. That didn’t feel directed at hurting him specifically. And he couldn’t lie-- he knew where to hit, at least, even if it was way too rough for him. 

Pain, that was more real than anything.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Hm?” Haizaki said, a smirk in his voice that Kise could hear even from his boring view of the headboard and pillows. What a terrible person, he thought. 

“You’re rough-- way too rough,” Kise sighed, shuddering in recovery from the shock, “Surprised you ever had a girlfriend longer than a day the way you-- ah,” 

His hair in Haizaki’s hand, an elbow in his spine, pushing his back into a curve as Haizaki slid deeper into him, hitting harder with this new angle making him feel thicker, bigger -- the noises coming out of him sounded ugly, nothing like the nice submissive sounds he’d always wanted Kasamatsu to hear, the moans he’d stifled in front of Moriyama. Gasps. Sighs. 

“That’s right, Ryouta, let it all out. You like it, don’t you?”

It riled him up, made him burn hotter, _yes, I like it_ \-- but Kise let out the tension in a snicker of a laugh instead. “Oh, you care about how it is for _me_ , now?”

“Shut up. I know you like it,” Haizaki’s free hand wandered down from where it was bracing Kise’s hip and, almost completely from the blue, towards Kise’s stomach, his navel, his cock still hard from the pathetic foreplay earlier. He never even imagined this man would be able to give pleasure to somebody else. The touch, his calloused hand wrapped around him had Kise jolt in pleasure and clench and curve his back, tilt his hips all at the same time, even as he heard behind him-- “Yeah, I knew it, you love it, you _looove_ it rough. Show me a little appreciation, Ryouta, hey? Who else gets you to love it like this, hmm?”

He hated him, his skeeviness. More than that, Kise hated being led along like this. “Don’t, _ah_ , think this is even remotely good,”

“Oh, yeah?” Haizaki slowed to a stop, his hand dragging sticky fingertips on the skin of Kise’s abdomen, and backing up, his cock slipping out ever so slightly as Kise tightened in surprise, his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn’t realised how horribly close he was to climax. “This ain’t _nearly_ good enough for a slut like you, huh? That why you’re crawling all over my bed, yeah?”

“...” 

He was lost for words. No way in hell was he about to beg him for more, not when he was treating him so badly.

Badly?

Was this _bad_?

Kise was breathless, like he was being emptied of air just from the touch, like he was going to die if he stopped for real.

“If you want this, _Ryouuuuta_ ,” Haizaki teased behind him, easing just the head of his cock in and out of him, slick and feeling huge against the rim when Kise was tight like this, “You know what you have to do, don’t you?”

He really was an idiot. The moment he’d decided to take that detour to the arcade he should have known he was cursed, drawn in by that strange, horrible charm of Haizaki’s.

But it wasn’t all his fault. Something about him-- he must have known him better than Kise knew himself, if he managed to convince him here.

He saw past all his fakeries, didn’t he.

Seriously, it felt-- good. Kise’s body reacted before he could speak, hips twitching to roll into Haizaki’s hand, his elbows giving way until he was gasping into the bedsheets, arching for more, for more.

“Shougo-kun, _mm--_ ”

Without pause he took Kise in his hand again and jerked lightly, out of time with his thrusts, rough and ragged to Kise’s gasps until suddenly he came, instantly letting go of Kise’s cock with a sigh and sliding his hands back to gripping his hips instead. It took Kise a hazy moment, head spinning from the blood racing in his ears in those tender moments before climax, to realise that he wasn’t touching him anymore, that Haizaki was pulling out and flopped backwards onto the bed next to him. His hair was coming loose from that stupid ponytail, long strands stuck to his forehead over a pierced eyebrow. It was weird to actually see his face -- the first time he'd seen it since he’d shoved Kise forward into a wall the instant they’d stepped inside his home. Taking a breath, Haizaki pushed his hair back and rummaged in his side-table for a moment before pulling out a packet of cigarettes. As though he was all alone in his bedroom he shook one out wordlessly and lit it in a quick movement, blowing a puff away from Kise, towards the closed window.

“Are you serious,” Kise murmured shakily, knees spreading further apart on the bed under his own weight as he sat up from the embarrassing ass-in-the-air position he’d been in on the bed. The head of his cock dripped with pre-cum, as close as he was, running along his inner thigh. Haizaki glanced aside at him out of the corner of his eye as though to say, ‘you’re still here?’, then tapped a little ash on the tray by his elbow.

“You didn’t think it was any good, did you? You won’t mind getting yourself off, then.” he said coolly.

“Shougo-kun, you…” Whatever insults he could have summoned were lost to Kise for the time being, his brain empty other than equal parts anger and horniness, and his body needed one of those to be solved sooner rather than later. Despite the shame of it, Haizaki looking at him with half-lidded eyes like he was no more than a fly resting on the wall, Kise swallowed his pride and jerked himself off, coming gently into his hands with a muted shudder because fuck if he was going to let him think that he’d gotten him that far. Even if he had. Everything felt muddled up-- like it was about to mean something when he said his name. This must have been the rebound Moriyama was talking about. With an irritated sigh he wiped himself off on the sheets on Haizaki’s side of the bed and stayed sitting, staring at him, and when it was apparent he wasn’t going to offer any kind of aftercare Kise huffed and rolled down onto his back, beside him. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

“You’re the worst, Shougo-kun.” he said after a moment. Haizaki glanced at him, then returned to staring out at nowhere in particular as he took another drag on his cigarette, a move that particularly irked Kise even further, as though a horrible greying bedroom wall had nicer features than he did.

“You were expecting something else?” he murmured, blowing the smoke away again before looking down at Kise from where he was propped up on an elbow.

“...No, I guess not. I don’t know what I was expecting, to be honest.”

“Wow, Kise Ryouta’s honesty. Worth so much in today’s economy.”

“Could you shut up?”

“Hahaha,” Haizaki laughed, deadpan, deliberately blowing cigarette smoke into Kise’s face this time to his absolute disgust, his instant whining in complaint drawing a real laugh out of him. “What, you want pillowtalk? You wanna snuggle?”

“Urgh, no way,” Kise groaned, staring up at the ceiling. He was sore. But any shame he felt at being played like this was cancelled out with how annoyed he felt about it instead -- that he was weak enough to go out of his way for something like this. Getting used by his old rival like a plaything and thinking it _meant_ something. Idiot.

“So, who’s the lucky guy?” Haizaki interrupted his self-pitying slippery slope.

“What?” he glared across at his bedmate. 

“Or girl, or person. Who you’re cheating on me with.”

“...”

“What, you mean this _wasn’t_ some kinda cry for help? Damn, Ryouta, your standards are lower than I thought.”

“Wha-- _you’re_ the one who took me home!”

“Hey, don’t be like that, you practically jumped on my dick.”

“I did not! I’m not-- I wasn’t looking for anything in particular,” Kise lied desperately, “I just wanted to know what you’re up to these days, and things just led to--”

“Jesus, you’re such a fucking liar, Ryouta.” he said, and fell silent to take another drag. “I don’t actually care, I’m just curious. Sounds like you were too. Don’t blame ya -- can’t see you dating anyone like me.”

Kise huffed. “You got that right. You’re the complete opposite of my taste.”

“Only sayin’ that ‘cause we’re alike. I wouldn’t wanna date my copy either.” he said, and when Kise screwed up his face in disgust he smirked.

“If I cheated it would have to be with, like-- I don’t know. A billionaire.” Kise mused.

“Like I told you, I don’t care. Sleep with your boss if it makes you happy. But hey, I’ll keep it in mind for when I hit it big at pachinko.”

“Wow, hope I make it to your list of sugar babies,” Kise said sarcastically, getting up to hunt for his clothes. They were scattered near the door to the apartment in no particular order, tossed aside -- he didn’t realise he’d shed them that quickly at the time. 

“Resentment ain’t a good look, you know,” he called back somewhere behind Kise as he found his underwear tossed halfway into the bathroom, a weirdly clean bathroom at that. Whatever got him to ignore Haizaki’s taunting -- not that he wanted to go back to regretting this stupid decision, but something told him he had to be by himself, for real this time, how Momoi had told him. This had been an exercise in what _not_ to do. Haizaki couldn’t reflect him, that much he knew. In front of the mirror he checked his reflection quickly for hickeys, finding none, then stopped to wash his hands.

That’s when he felt it. Something wet running slowly down the inside of his leg.

Kise touched it, looked at his fingers, and screamed.

“What, is there a spider?” called Haizaki from the bedroom. He was halfway through pulling a top on when Kise came charging out of the bathroom and grabbed him by the front of his vest, wrenching his sticky hands into the fabric until it stretched, tears springing from his eyes.

“Shougo-kun, you didn’t use a condom?!”

“Hunh?” he looked completely unconcerned. “Is that a problem?”

Kise wanted to slap him, but they were practically forehead-to-forehead and his hands were busy shaking him like a ragdoll until a weird struggle of a sound came out of his rival. Part of him hoped he’d break his neck this way and at least this disgusting excuse for a human would be purged from the world for good. Manslaughter would be better than catching something from him.

“Urrrghh, can you get any more awful?! Did you get tested recently at least?”

“Pfft.”

_“Answer me, asshole!”_

He looked mildly surprised that such a thing came out of Kise’s mouth, the cigarette dropping from his lips. For a second it seemed like he might be honest with him, might even realise what he did wrong or apologise. That would turn things around. Kise prayed for some reason to not completely hate him, and by extension, himself, for this entire disaster.

“Not lately, nah. But you don’t mind a souvenir, do ya?” Haizaki snickered.

Kise did slap him then.

***

In the silence of the sexual health clinic the two of them sat with a space separating them: Haizaki hunched over his spread legs in his plastic waiting-room seat sporting a glowing red cheek, Kise sat with his legs crossed, twitching his foot impatiently. There weren’t many visitors around at this time of night, in this district -- Kise figured the morning would have been busier. Nonetheless his eyes flickered anxiously beneath his fashion glasses and the ugly plain hoodie borrowed from Haizaki’s dresser pulled up to keep him inconspicuous. The last thing he needed was some paparazzi scoop on KiseRyou spotted waiting for STD test results. Not only would his agency crack down on him, but Momoi and Akashi would probably gut him too. Aomine might finally kill Haizaki with a right hook to the other jaw. What a trail of destruction just from one man’s horrible habit. A real tragedy.

Next to him he heard the click of a lighter switch, and he glared at Haizaki beneath the tinted lenses. “You can’t smoke in here, you know.”

“Tch. I know.” He replied, not looking at him, simply fidgeting with the lighter in his palm and occasionally clicking it. “But you won’t let me go outside.”

Kise rolled his eyes. “You’d run and I wouldn’t be able to get your results. I’m not _that_ dumb.” 

“This is so stupid.”

“It wouldn’t be like this if you’d just used a condom!” He hissed urgently, suppressing his urge to yell at him with all his might.

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Haizaki shrugged and leaned back in his seat. For a second he looked at his lighter, then pocketed it, fiddling with his earring instead. It looked like a new piercing. After a moment he looked across at Kise, who instantly turned away again. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” Kise said.

“Suit yourself.”

It felt strange for them not to be butting heads-- or, not chasing one another around like a cobra and a mongoose, each armed to the teeth and ready to kill. Kise wondered what had changed. In the quiet of the centre, save for an overhead strip light buzzing with electricity in its old tubes, he realised that Haizaki’s tone had changed. That gravelly-voiced, snarling dog of a man was now relaxed in his seat, scrolling on his phone aimlessly.

Did he try to act more like he did _back then_ , earlier in the evening? The old Shougo-kun? Was it nostalgia?

“Shougo-kun,” Kise tried, suspicion coating his voice, though mostly of himself and his own wavering, terrible judgement at 1am after the most painful fuck of his life.

“What?” He didn’t look up.

He was right, though; his voice was calmer, less rough. 

“Why’d you think I was cheating on somebody with you?”

That got him to look up; he stared at Kise, then laughed, rolling his head back. “You didn’t have to take it seriously.”

“You wouldn’t say it if you didn’t mean it at least a little,” he retorted.

“Hmmm. How about, for every question I answer, you have to answer something for me, too?”

“I’m not bargaining with you,” Kise frowned.

“Then it’ll be a mystery forever,” Haizaki shrugged.

Kise hated this. “Fine, deal.” he struggled to give a smile and they shook hands awkwardly over the spare seat between them. His rival’s hand was warm from where it had been stuck inside his jacket pocket.

“Nothin’ concrete. Just figured that if you were gonna make the effort to find me, it wouldn’t be for a catch-up, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be for a fuck for fun. It’d have to be a revenge fuck, or what you’re not gettin’ in bed, or something. Don’t you have girls knockin’ down your door by now?”

“Is that your question?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

Kise pouted. It wasn’t as fun of a game if the stakes weren’t that bit higher. “I don’t sleep with fans.”

“Not anymore, you mean.”

“Not since I was like, fifteen, Shougo-kun! Some of us grew out of that stuff!”

Haizaki snorted and looked back at his phone. Kise held onto that morsel he’d thrown him for a moment -- the idea of a revenge fuck. Such a thing sounded so brutal. He wondered if, in actuality, he’d been somebody else’s revenge fuck. Did he mind? How did it feel?

Not that he was going to ask him anything like that...

“What were you doing at the arcade earlier?”

“Really?” He looked at Kise, then sighed when he realised he was serious. “Playin’. What, I’m telling the truth! Blowing off steam after my shift. Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”

“You have a _job_?”

“Hey, now, it’s my turn to ask. Hmmm.” As he hummed Kise was starting to regret getting into this game, but only mildly -- his curiosity had been stirred. The thousand questions after his breakup were starting to take form. “So _are_ you cheating?”

“No!”

“Aw, you’re a gooder boy than I thought you’d be.”

Kise wrinkled his nose. “What do you do now?”

“Not much. Got a few part-time jobs. It’s enough to cover the rent on my place right now.”

“Oh, right... you don’t have a flatmate, huh? There was only one bedroom...”

“I don’t get into trouble anymore, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

Kise raised his eyebrows. “Really? You could’ve fooled me, the way you were acting--”

“Pssht. I was trying to scare you off, but it didn’t work.”

“Eh?! For real?”

Haizaki didn’t say anything for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, at least you don’t have to go back ’n’ lie to your man or whatever. You'd kill me in my sleep if you brought something home to him.”

It might have just been his imagination, but it sounded like he was glad for him. That he wasn’t in a situation like that.

...That didn’t feel so wrong. Seeing this kind of side of him. Extra piercings, taller than before, rough around the edges but almost, nearly, practically honest. Time had changed what Nijimura's strong hand couldn't.

 _Communication_ , Kise thought.

“Oh, don’t worry, I definitely would.” Kise smiled at him.

Haizaki snickered, and the sight of him grinning into his jacket collar brought a funny little smile to Kise’s face too just as the nurse called each of them in. 

***

Of course he wouldn’t have been so stupid that he’d get this messed up before a work day, so Kise was surprised to be woken up by the doorbell and a courier with a big, plain box for him to sign for. He sleepily signed his name characters before handing the reader back to her, only half-recognising her look of confusion when she read it, before she disappeared down the building’s corridor and left him alone with the mystery delivery on his porch. He couldn’t remember what he’d last ordered online in a self-pitying retail therapy shopping spree -- maybe a face steamer? a humidifier? -- but then again, Amazon were terrible at economising on packing materials, weren’t they, so it could have been anything.

Once he’d made a coffee and dragged the box into his lounge, he sat cross-legged and set to opening it. There weren’t very many details of the shop name on top, some initials that he couldn’t really guess at. Under layers of bubblewrap and paper packing there was a brightly-coloured box. Kise pulled it out.

A brand-new dildo practically stared back at him from its packet.

“Ehh?!” Kise yelped, and peered into the box. There were more, tucked in with bottles of-- of lube? Oils? Boxes of condoms… He hunted for a packing slip, finding no clues on the paper. “Who sent this? A fan?!”

Or a stalker, he thought, if somebody had spotted him at the clinic last night? Terrible luck -- he was only there for maybe half an hour before he got his results (both him and Haizaki were all clean, despite the odds) and went home at 2am. Was this a threat?!

Just then his phone buzzed on the couch and he nearly screamed until he saw the caller ID, picking up in a hurry.

“Momocchi! Momocchi, thank goodness you called! This morning already the weirdest thing has--”

“Oh, Ki-chan, I’m so sorry for the shock!” she cried, sounding panicked, “It was so late when I ordered, I was half-asleep, I forgot to put anything in the gift message, and it was on my work card so my name was… Sorry! I just got the delivery notification, did it arrive okay?”

“The… the… wait, this was _you_?” Kise said dumbly, sitting back on his ankles as he stared at the box and the lurid toy he’d taken out first, popping fluorescent pink in its plain white box like some kind of fancy new game controller. “There’s so much here…”

“Oh, oh dear… I was just looking at the basket total, not the number of things…”

“Th-this must be expensive, right?!”

“Don’t worry, it’s only a few things, gosh,” she said, pouting.

“Are you kidding me, Momocchi? I could fit in this box if I crouch! Two of me!” Kise’s volume escalated, standing to stick a leg in amongst the toys and bottles to prove it, shrieking when something vibrated suddenly under his foot.

“It’s… it’s a present!”

“But you… Momocchi, you already did something for my birthday! What am I meant to do with…”

“A feel-better-from-your-breakup-present! It has…” Momoi paused, making ‘ummm’, sounds under her breath, then redoubled with extra enthusiasm, “Everything you need to enjoy your alone time!”

“...”

He stood staring at the collection under him. Honestly, it was like looking at artefacts from another world, another time -- not anything he knew about, not very confidently, anyway. All he really kept at home these days was a bottle of lotion and, occasionally, lingerie going spare from a coworker’s shoot, for thirsty selfies that everybody complained about when he drunkenly sent them to the wrong group chats. Kasamatsu had been the one who carried condoms and most of the time they were in his student digs, not on his person. Kise realised he’d simply _assumed_ that Haizaki would take care of that kind of thing, yet another dumb mistake. He burned red just thinking about it.

No, he didn’t own anything fun. Nothing for himself. 

Momoi broke the silence. “If there’s anything you don’t want, ummm, you can return it unopened, there’s a returns slip in the box--”

Kise couldn’t help giggling. “Only you would think of something like this. You don’t take the subtle approach anymore, huh?”

He could hear her flush with pride over the phone. “Whose idea do you think it was to bait Dai-chan with those magazines back in the day?”

“Ehhh, I wonder if that still works on him now…”

“No, I had to change my approach,” Momoi laughed. “But, um, seriously, Ki-chan… Take some time to yourself, okay? And, if you need… um, help using anything, please just ask me.”

“Because you’re an expert on this too, huh?” Kise grinned, and to his surprise Momoi giggled too.

“What good would a coach be if she didn’t know what she was talking about?”

“...Oh?”

“E-Enjoy your day off, Ki-chan!” she babbled quickly and hung up.

That left him alone with a big box, litres of lube, and a lot of time on his hands. He stared at the time on the phone screen, and a few chat app notifications from her popped up right away with links to the web shop’s online guides.

He still ached, his core muscles twinging every time he straightened his posture, but…

His coach had effectively given him homework, hadn’t she?

Kise decided then that the next time he wound up in another’s bed, he’d be well-prepared, and started carefully sorting out the contents of the box.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MomoKi and switch Hai/Ki! Momoi is precious and I love her

Beneath the steam wafting from the cup of tea placed before him, Kise’s reflection stared back at him. Did he really look that nervous in real life or was that the ripples curving his image’s expression?

“So…” Momoi began softly as she settled down into her cosiest beanbag.

“So…” Kise repeated dumbly.

“Gosh, don’t be so coy! You’re the one who wanted to come here instead of going out for brunch,” she pouted, “What’s up?”

“Ah, umm… Maybe I just wanted to come and drink some of your yummy cherry-blossom tea, Momocchi…?”

“Hmmm,” Momoi wasn’t convinced, giving him the lightest frown over the edge of her cup as she sipped. Kise fidgeted a little in his seat on the couch until Momoi broke their gaze and stared instead at the backpack he’d brought with him, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to activate some sort of X-ray vision. But knowing her skills, just the motion was enough to set Kise panicking.

“Ahh, ahh, don’t look! Fine, okay, um,” he shook his head then took a deep breath to summon up his courage, taking the backpack he’d brought with him into his hands. “It’s about the homework you set me before the weekend…”

Momoi looked like she wanted to laugh, but hid her smile behind her teacup held in both hands. “Well, that much was obvious!”

“Ehh?! You think? Oh my god, did your neighbour notice when I came up, do you think?!”

“I- I mean, I could tell! It was just my intuition… Anyway, what questions did you have that were so bad you couldn’t just message me? Didn’t I say that you could ask me anything?” she giggled. Kise blushed, trying not to look so pitiful as he gave in and knelt down to open up his backpack and take out its contents: a part of his homework materials. 

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t have been able to work it out from reading a message...” 

“I know that, Ki-chan; you’re a visual learner, aren’t you,” Momoi set her tea down and started playing with a lock of her hair as he lay out the toys: a couple of smooth objects, small and large, a string of beads and the fluorescent pink dildo. “W-Wow, I wouldn’t have wanted to get caught carrying these…!”

“I drove here, okay?” Kise whined as he flushed red just looking at the items all in broad daylight. He’d-- he’d opened _everything_ Momoi had sent him in that huge box, and it was safe to say he had definitely… tried everything, even glanced at the product website like she had recommended, but it was still a slight mystery to have to spend time on his own to get to know them. Obviously he knew what pleasure felt like, _that_ wasn’t the problem, but getting there was another story. Printed booklets and sexy wording in the product descriptions didn’t do much to direct him. Before he could stop her Momoi picked up one of the smooth objects, one that was more of an enigma to him than the others, looking at it in curiosity.

“This one’s one of my favourites! But is something wrong with it?” she said nonchalantly like she wasn’t simply holding something that was in a very suspect place only hours earlier. 

“I- I wanted to ask you if I was doing something wrong, because… I mean, it’s not the right shape for me to…”

“Shape?” she tilted her head and pulled out a little plastic tab from the battery compartment - it clicked, and with a press of a button on the base it buzzed into life in her hand. “This one’s a vibrator, though?”

“Ah… That explains a lot…”

“Eheheh. Okay then, what was the problem with this other one over here?” 

No matter how much he respected her and admired her for her maturity, he couldn’t be the same, he just couldn’t look at her properly holding a sex toy. He burned up as she waved the string of bright green beads. “It wasn’t, ummmmm, doing anything for me, even after a few minutes…”

“You didn’t rush with these, right?! You have to go slow, and then, after a while, you pull them out… It’s good, I promise.”

“A while? How long is--”

“Gosh, I would say... an hour? After you’re all relaxed around it.” she nodded.

“O-Oh.” Kise thought shamefully at his lightning-fast attempt compared to what she was describing. His short exciting sex life was actually just the start of a journey... No wonder it wasn’t satisfying at all. “Then, how about this one? I didn’t even know where to start…!”

Momoi held the egg-shaped item. “Whoa, I thought all men knew…” And with a ‘pop’ she twisted it open, the soft pillowy insides oozing with lubricant over her fingers. “It’s, um. You know! For solo play…”

“...”

He figured she didn’t mean one-on-one.

Kise broke out into a sweat. He was used to Momoi correcting him on the court and analysing his entire posture in a heartbeat. This, though, was a whole new layer of knowledge he never imagined she would be helping him with.

“Maybe the problem is because it’s just me on my own,” he said sheepishly, rubbing at his cheek as if trying to wipe some of his natural blush away, “If I’m alone, I don’t think I get as excited…”

“Really? You don’t read--” As if it was more embarrassing to say it aloud than holding a dildo in her delicate hands, Momoi glanced around the room awkwardly, then whispered, “Like, gravure or-- watch videos, or--”

“I mean, it doesn’t do that much for me,” Kise admitted as he finally relaxed enough to take a sip of the tea she’d offered him, fragrant and perfumed in his mouth; the fact that his old coach had no qualms about sending him a box full of sex toys but didn’t want to talk about porn by name was adorable and reminded him that everyone was different about these things-- that much he knew by now. “I can watch it, but… Maybe it’s only because it’s video? Being with someone else feels really real, you know?”

Momoi nodded. “I remember… you could never pick up a technique from basketball tapes, but if you watched Dai-chan play for one minute, your technique improved right away.” After a sweet smile of nostalgia, she gasped. “Oh, but that’s a weird thing to bring up when we’re talking about this kind of stuff!”

Kise laughed. “Well, it’s true though, I’d forgotten all about that! Kasamatsu-senpai didn’t use videos with our practice other than for competitions. Just, drills, drills, drills. He must’ve picked up on that too.”

“Kinesthetic learning, it’s called. Oh, Minmin, leave that alone,” she broke off suddenly as her cat approached the toys laid out on the towel atop the apartment floor, scooping it up into her arms to its mild meowy protest. A lightbulb went off in Kise’s head.

“Ah, you named him like Kagamicchi? ‘Kaga-min’.”

Momoi held the cat up to her face, smiling over its pointed ears. 

“Don’t you think he looks like a tiger?”

“Maybe a tiger cub,” Kise chuckled. He never thought of Momoi as somebody who was close with Kagami and quietly savoured the feeling of being able to talk about him out loud. Aomine was too cut up about having been forgotten to _ever_ mention him. “Did Kurokocchi pick out the name?”

“No, but… he helped me pick him out at the shelter. I saw this little kitten trying to reach towards only Tetsu-kun, patting the glass with just one big paw, and I thought…” she laughed and let him go onto the sofa where he curled up dozily. “Um, anyway! I’m sorry all those things didn’t help, I sprung it on you… I just thought it would be a fun way to be on your own…”

“Oh, no, don’t be! Like I said, it has to be my approach, right? Like if I have this stuff, and I’m with the right person…”

Kise trailed off, not knowing what else he could add, but in reality there was something stopping him from decorating his suggestions further. The truth of the matter… The answer sitting closer than he thought.

“Ki-chan?”

He looked up, blushing all over again, to see Momoi holding the neon pink toy. 

“It’s not like… you brought this one because you didn’t know how to use it, right?” she said.

He struggled not to burst into flames. This was _Momoi_ \-- his dear friend, his closest girlfriend, and she could see straight through him any time she liked but she was too tactful for that, she didn’t want to meddle in the lives of these troublesome guys-- so how, how was he supposed to breach this kind of subject? The idea that Moriyama-- no, Kasamatsu, had planted in his head of _sleeping with the same person that you called a friend_ had taken root, and he simply couldn’t shake it from his thoughts, eating him up with curiosity.

_I hope we can still be friends._

Because if you could trust them with your body, even if they couldn’t bear your feelings any longer, you could trust them as a friend?

...Because if you trusted that person as a friend, you could trust them with your body, and your feelings didn’t factor in.

Something as intangible as ‘closure’ was lost in the sea of his discoveries. Physically being in the moment with somebody gave him so much more to think about than being alone.

“Sorry, Momocchi, I have something weird to ask of you…”

If he couldn’t trust his coach with this part of his physicality too, then who of his friends could be there for him?

“G… Go ahead, Ki-chan.” She sounded just as shy as he felt.

“Um,” he bowed his head a little where he knelt then, realising how terribly old-fashioned and formal that was, straightened up and tried to laugh to blow off the nerves. “Will you… show me how to use it properly?”

She didn’t reply in words, but with a swish of her soft hair she turned to dash out of the front room into her bedroom. Kise’s stomach flipped in regret.

“Momocchi, I’m really sorry! I’m sorry! It was bad of me to assume, I know, so--”

Yet she returned just as quickly, holding a few things in her arms-- a box, a bottle, something with black tape straps that slipped out of her grip and fell to the ground. She crouched down, her face bright red, and assembled what she had brought together with the pink dildo, then held it out in front of her, too nervous to say anything for a moment as a dildo-equipped harness practically stared Kise in the face. It took him a moment to register exactly what she was showing him from her personal stash. Even the bottle she’d brought-- cherry-flavoured lube, it read; ultra-thin condoms. 

She really… was an expert, compared to him.

“K- Ki-chan,” she started, her voice nearly squeaking in embarrassment.

“Yes?!” The tension was contagious. It seemed to crank up her energy even further.

“I’ll, I’m, um… I’m actually most comfortable with this, and I’ll be really careful with you, and gentle, because I know this must seem super strange to you, but-- but-- if you’re okay with it… are you saying you want to sleep together?”

Kise thought it must have been mid-August, the room boiling up between the two of them. “As-- as a friend! Only as a friend!”

“Okay. Okay!” Her shoulders lowered, fingers drumming excitedly on the pad of the harness. “I’m really glad you understand… You know, because I…”

“Because you’re in love with Kurokocchi, I know,” Kise smiled, and Momoi reflected it in relief.

“And you know, as well… I love you in a different way, Ki-chan.”

“Me too.” he admitted.

“I think you’re sweet. Really! Also… you know, Ki-chan, if you ever wanted me to not do anything, you can say it honestly, okay? If that’s… talking to you about something, or having sex… please tell me, okay? It’s important that we talk about all these things.”

His brain felt like white noise was taking over but he nodded fervently. “Yeah, of course. I’m… glad it’s you, Momocchi, there's never been someone else like you I could even… think about doing this kind of thing with…”

After a second Momoi’s jaw dropped. “Eh? Am I the only girl you like?!”

Kise didn’t think he’d ever have the question asked out loud, much less by the person in question, and he cringed a little under Momoi’s intense stare. “Maybe?”

They shared a quiet moment to laugh and think about what was being said, what was being done, then Momoi collected the items Kise had brought-- all of them-- and stood up with resolve, carefully unzipping her skirt with a free hand.

“You have the day off, right? Come to the bedroom with me!”

Kise’s eyes flickered between the toys and Momoi’s thrilled expression. Her skirt dropped to the ground. “Eh? Eh-- all of them? Momocchi?”

She smiled, her powerful smile that she only showed moments before destroying another team’s hopes and dreams. In this case, Kise suddenly worried what she thought she was about to destroy…

“It’s okay! You have good stamina, Ki-chan, better now than you’ve ever had-- I can tell just looking at you! Besides, this is more fun than training!”

***

She wasn’t wrong. Kise vividly remembered being twice as exhausted as he was now but having only had half the fun. Momoi lay in his arms, stroking his hair, her eyes shut as she half-dozed in the afterglow. It was wild, Kise thought, that they could do _that--_ and now lie here like newlyweds, yet he didn’t feel mushy in the same way he would have done with… well, with his ex. It was different. A sweet, soft kind of love for the person in his arms. He petted her shoulders, playing with her bra strap. She hadn’t protested when he’d tried to kiss her to set the mood but she _had_ giggled. Funnily, it didn’t injure his ego at all -- it made it more fun when she did touch him, building him up slowly using a sleeve in her hand, made it seem weirdly chaste even though she had him bend over her bed so she could be the right height to use it while she wore the harness to hit him in all the right spots and reach there, right _there, Momocchi, Momocchi..._

Now, relaxed in one another’s arms it wasn’t too different to seeing her joyfully win a free ice-cream on a lolly stick, except that right now he also felt sore in so many places, and he could safely say he fully understood how to use everything in that box once he got home later. 

“Momocchi,” he said softly after a while.

“Mmm?” Her voice was sweet. If Kuroko wasn’t returning her affections when she was this cute, Kise thought, he’s missing out; _but then again, here I am_ , he mused guiltily.

“Where did you learn how to peg?”

“E-Ehhh, you’re not being polite anymore, huh?” she pulled a face, then snuggled closer to him. Although Kise personally didn’t get the appeal of big boobs the way Aomine brazenly declared his attraction to them, he felt a certain level of gratitude-- of _awe_ seeing her pressed up against his chest in her adorable lingerie. “I just did my research… Oh, but you’re my first, Ki-chan.”

“Wow, really?”

“How about me? Am I your first girl in this way?”

He didn’t have to think hard for that one. “Yeah, you are.”

“Lucky me,” she smiled. “That you’re okay with this.”

“It’s that fun for you?”

“Goodness, you’re chatty… Can you take my hairband out?”

Kise duly reached down her back and undid her ponytail, combing his fingers through her long hair. “Is this going to make things weird for us? As friends?”

“...If I know you the way I do, Ki-chan, it’ll be fine… but if it does change things, then we’ll stop right away.” Momoi sighed, looking at his face even as his eyes focused on not accidentally tugging on any tangles in her hair from how rough she’d gotten with him. “I want to stay as friends, but just…”

“Closer?”

“We were already close!”

“...with benefits?” he suggested idly.

Momoi reddened. Which was cute, considering they’d been cuddling in the nude for what felt like hours now in the afternoon sun drenching her bedroom.

“You make it sound so dirty,” she admonished him after a moment.

***

  
  


By now it felt like that particular table and that booth at their usual Maji Burger was always kept clear, like their powerful aura as a group had claimed it as their own for those fortnightly gatherings. Murasakibara’s mountain of fries was steadily disappearing as he chomped industriously like a hamster.

“Momoi won’t be coming tonight?” Akashi asked, gingerly taking his booth seat next to Kise.

“Myeah. She’s doin’ overtime.” Aomine replied with his drink straw already chewed-up in his mouth.

“Overtime at sports college?”

“Cram. Extra class. Y’know, when there’s extra credits or whatever.” he attempted to explain before getting bored of talking, and emptying his fries on a tray to share between them all except for Murasakibara. Kise and Kuroko followed suit. 

“Ahh, I see.” Akashi nodded over the scent of hot oil and salt. Her bubbly presence was definitely missed in Maji Burger tonight, if one looked around the table to most of the team already chowing down in near-silence. Although he missed her, deep down Kise was actually a little relieved that she wasn’t there; he didn’t underestimate _her_ ability to act totally normal in front of everybody after-- after that had happened between them; but he, on the other hand, felt effervescent, like he would bubble over like champagne and accidentally say something in his excitement to see her again. He had to wonder how he’d managed to miss the chemistry between her and Kuroko. Glancing between Kuroko opposite him and Aomine messily eating his burger at his side, Kise struggled to break the strangely resigned mood at the table.

“O-Oh, by the way Akashicchi, did you get ahold of Midorimacchi? He didn’t reply in the group chat, did he? About meeting tonight.”

“Yes. He’s busy with some formalities tonight with his and Takao’s family, I believe.”

“Ooh, wedding prep?” Kise leaned forward over the table to get a closer look at Akashi’s face like it had secrets written on it, and to try and catch a hint of anything from anybody around the table. “It’s happening sooner than I thought! Only a week away! This was his last chance to eat with us as an unmarried man…”

“How long’ve those two been together?” Aomine asked suddenly.

“Too long,” Like a leviathan, Murasakibara surfaced from the haze of eating to speak between bites.

“It must be… four years.” 

“Wow… Kinda young to settle, huh?” Kise pinched a fry out of the sharing-pile and tried to shake the salt off of it.

“Mido-chin’s traditional.” Murasakibara countered, licking his fingers. Aomine grunted in agreement next to him. Kise couldn’t help thinking of how they all used to sit shoulder-to-shoulder like this in the Teikou canteen and have more or less the same amount of uncivilised conversation -- the only other one who was missing was Haizaki. 

“‘Bout time, if you ask me,” Aomine shrugged. “They’ve been goo-goo-eyed at each other all this time. All they’re doin’ is putting it on paper.”

Murasakibara nodded. “It's, you know… You just look at them and you _know_ they’ve felt like they’ve been together since, like, _forever_. Doesn’t matter how much time really passed.”

Kise couldn’t help chuckling. “Haha, they are kind of sappy, aren’t they?” He waved his drink straw at his tallest teammate opposite him, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth. “Do they make you feel romantic too, Murasakibaracchi?”

But instead of sharing his joke Murasakibara chewed his last handful of fries silently. Aomine screwed up his empty burger wrapper into a little warm-orange ball, his eyebrows set firm in his ever-exhausted face, and stood from his seat.

“Gonna get another Pepsi, anyone need anything?”

“Ah, get me one too, Aominecchi!”

“‘m coming with,” Murasakibara said as he rose, leaving with Aomine. 

“Goodness. You shouldn’t tease him like that, Kise,” Akashi said with the lilt of a laugh in his voice once the two had wandered off to join the queue at the counters, far enough that they couldn’t hear him. It was enough of a shock to have the attention back on him suddenly, in such a tone, that he sat bolt upright in his seat, because despite how gently he’d said it, that was definitely a disciplinary tone when coming from his old captain.

“What? I didn’t mean to…”

“You know he hasn’t wanted to talk about dating since Himuro left Akita. It’s unfair to single him out like that.”

A slight pang of guilt hit him -- he’d forgotten about _that_ part of the whole Kagami-being-cut-out-of-their-lives equation. It sounded like a stupid fairytale: Kagami had fallen out with Himuro, they’d done some kind of hypnosis to erase their memories of one another, but something went wrong and they’d both forgotten everything to do with the Generation of Miracles. Apparently their minds weren’t stable enough to take another shake-up in memories so there was nothing that anybody could do to remind them. Kagami had forgotten all about Kise, Aomine, Akashi, the rest… the only one he still knew was Kuroko, his best friend. For Himuro the loss was less drastic, but-- he’d forgotten that he and Murasakibara were ever romantically involved. Then he had dropped out of the basketball team, and the instant he graduated from Yosen he disappeared from Akita without a trace. The very idea of Murasakibara ever even dating him had been foreign to Kise since he’d hardly seen it with his own eyes, spending most of his time on the court in the Winter Cup since Yosen had been knocked out but nonetheless he forced himself to sound regretful as Akashi reminded him. “Oops, you’re right! My bad…”

“I think I’ll buy him a dessert,” Akashi said as he got up and left the table. That left him and Kuroko alone. Or, as Kise saw it, left him abandoned, since they’d never really hit it off when it was just the two of them ever since high school. It certainly wasn’t for lack of wanting; Kuroko just evaded his attentions like a cat sliding out from beneath his palm. Predictably, Kuroko said nothing, watching Akashi join the others as he sipped on his milkshake.

“...Gee, everyone really has their history, don’t they?!” Kise finally exclaimed after a few moments’ silence of just him and his thoughts. “I didn’t think it was that bad, he never talks about it… Like, I know it sucked, but sometimes that helps you get over it, y’know?”

“It’s the kind of person he is,” Kuroko replied, rolling back his cardigan sleeves in the summer heat. 

“Hmmm…” He remained unconvinced.

“Would it help you to ‘get over it’? Talking about your breakup?” 

Kise winced. “Well, I try, but everyone is kinda…”

\--mean? That would have been his excuse a week ago, a fresh dumpee, but a lot had happened since then. He’d slept with three different people. That was more than in the last three _years_! It still stung of course, but there was only so much mourning he could do for himself when his brain was busy with answering all those questions and doing Momoi’s ‘homework’. If anything, it felt almost like he would be milking it if he talked about it now. He didn’t really get it, the fact still hurt, but he had more of an idea of what had gone wrong.

Plus, he was having fun. He wasn’t exactly down at the moment.

“I think Midorima-kun will speak to you again at the wedding. He is… somewhat stressed these days.”

“So he _is_ ignoring me after all?! Ugh…” Kise slumped, tucking his untouched burger back into its wrapper. He’d probably offer it to Aomine later. Not that he’d take cold leftovers. “This all started because of the way I acted… Kasamatsu-senpai must have thought so, too, that I wasn’t right for him… Although, now I think about it, both him and Midorimacchi are pretty highly-strung guys, so maybe I just need to avoid that type of confrontation…”

“I’m sure they would appreciate that, for the time being.” Kuroko agreed, looking out for the return of his teammates. 

“Like, I just feel that I want something more laid-back… Maybe I should date for a while, or something,” Kise continued rambling, “It’d be easier if I could hook someone like Aominecchi… Strong, cool, never any drama… He just has his own life and he doesn’t get into these kinds of arguments. The kind of guy that’s a bit dumb but also fierce. That’d be the life!” he sighed dreamily at the idea, only a fantasy; if being Momoi’s toy-boy was a cute image, the two of them like peas in a pod, then being able to casually date Aomine felt like some incredibly stylish movie; everything falling perfectly into place, a cool lifestyle. Aomine was predictable, Aomine was safe. He’d focused on him so much in middle school, high school, that he felt like everything would work out fine. They matched well.

“As much as I hate to ask this,” Kuroko said under his breath before looking at Kise properly, an eyebrow raised in confusion, “What’s stopping you?”

“Uh, _obviously_ , Aominecchi only likes girls, right?” Kise sighed. He set his chin in his hand and gazed over at the back of the man he admired, looking stoic even when he was just waiting in line behind his teammates, a hand slung low in a pocket and his shoulders tucked back. It was the only reason Kise didn’t flirt with him. “Always has.”

The straw in Kuroko’s milkshake squeaked against the plastic lid as he fiddled with it. Even Kise was starting to sense Kuroko’s patience wearing thin, although he couldn’t imagine why. “... Kise-kun, you really are self-centred.”

He whirled around in horror like he’d been stabbed. “Huh?! How’d you come to that conclusion, Kurokocchi?! Don’t just drop a truth bomb on me like that in Maji Burger! I’ve had enough grief lately!” 

“If you had been paying attention to anybody else all this time you would know that he likes men, too.”

“...”

“Kise-kun, _please_ , try to use your brain. Or at least your eyes.” Kuroko sighed. He looked like he was developing a migraine.

“Oh my god, you’re not joking?! Kurokocchi, I thought you were kidding!”

“I’m dead serious. Everybody knows. It isn’t exactly a secret.”

“I don’t get it! I seriously don’t get it! What language do you guys speak in secretly around me that means I miss this kind of thing?!” Kise retorted.

“Kise-kun, _I_ was sleeping with Aomine-kun. Surely you didn’t miss that.”

… Suddenly, all his memories of his closest friends since high school were bathed in a tidal wave of a different colour. Aomine and Kuroko’s walks home together without the rest of them, their quiet conversations at the edge of the court when the structure of the basketball team was changing. Their reunions throughout the summer and winter tournaments while Kasamatsu was busy grilling him about his injuries and his behaviour. Then the many times they’d gone to Kuroko’s student apartment to find Aomine was already there and waiting; Aomine accompanying Kuroko to nights out with their friends, 'making sure he got home safe'... they didn’t even live in the same neighbourhood, and yet--

All those things he hadn’t seen-- should have spoken louder than anything he _did_ see, and the realisation hit him like a brick.

“ _Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat_?!”

“Oi, can it,” Aomine appeared behind Kise, balancing his cup of Pepsi on his head to announce his return as Akashi slipped back into his seat behind him, “Since Satsuki ain’t here I’m the one who’s gotta whip you guys into shape. No screamin’.”

“A-Aominecchi!” He caught the cup swiftly, gripping it like a lifeline, his face flushing red. How much had he heard?!

“Murasakibara-kun, you seem happy.” Kuroko quickly deflected as if he hadn’t just shattered Kise’s idea of the world around them.

“Mmm-mm. Aka-chin bought me apple pie.” He said fondly, his face lit up pink with joy, cradling the multiple desserts in his arms. At Kise’s elbow Akashi gave a tender laugh -- so magnanimous. Like he and Kuroko were each complicit in dancing around these topics.

“I owed you for sharing your fries with me last time. Kuroko, I got you one, too.”

“Ah… thank you.”

“Oi, boss, where’s mine? You definitely took a fry from me earlier, here, just put the pie in here,” Aomine pointed at his open mouth, sauce-smudged and waiting for dessert, and Akashi laughed out loud, the sound bringing a gentle smile to Kuroko’s face.

But Kise’s heart was still drumming in his chest; he couldn’t relax.

What was this? This world where everyone was just… communicating? The different relationships they each had that didn’t weigh on everybody else, even when they got together?

It wasn’t like how he only spoke to Moriyama at work, or saw Kasamatsu at his college and nowhere else.

All of these things were happening and he didn’t even see them…

“Kise-kun,” Kuroko nudged him back to reality, and when Kise looked over at him wordlessly, still lost in confusion and thought, he pressed his icy-cold milkshake cup to his bare arm.

“ _Yeeek_!” 

“We can talk about it another time,” he said quietly so as not to distract from the conversation, Murasakibara and Aomine arguing over who owed the biggest debt of fries and desserts with Akashi attempting to tally up the totals on a napkin.

“Eh, really? You’d tell me all about it?”

Kuroko looked at him.

“Would you pay attention to what is happening, this time around?”

“Well, sure, if you’ll fill me in…” Kise replied, raising his eyebrows.

“Okay. I don’t think anybody should be left out, after all.”

“What…” Kise’s heart kickstarted back to its nervous rhythm, but this time, out of apprehension. “What do you mean by that, Kurokocchi…?”

He didn’t say anything, and simply sucked on his drink straw with his eyes on Aomine.

***

It hadn’t been a _bad_ night by any means. He’d seen his closest friends after a long day of back-to-back shoots, spent a lovely few hours just catching up how they always did; so why did it leave such a bitter taste in Kise’s mouth? And why was he trying so hard to scrub it away by turning it into an even worse night?

“Nah -- no, no, you’re doin’ it all wrong.” Haizaki’s voice, between the sound of his own breathing and the irritating music he had playing in his room already when Kise had knocked, sounded far too bored to belong to somebody currently in the middle of getting sucked off. Kise raised his head and frowned at him.

“How exactly can you do this _wrong_? It’s good, isn’t it?” He thumbed at the base of Haizaki’s cock standing straight like it was proof, somehow, of the quality of his work. Haizaki grunted and shifted away from where Kise was lying across his lap on the bed, pushing back his head with a tug of his hair too fast for Kise to stop. 

“Huhhh? Seriously, are you for real? You can’t just-- gag on it a little and call it good. Your ex-girlfriend was better than this.”

Maybe it was because Kise was already feeling sad since earlier, but that obvious taunt cut him deeper than he expected. Not because of the memory of the girlfriend Haizaki had ‘stolen’ from him that he used to like to throw around so much but-- being bad at a certain skill wasn’t… something that he was particularly used to. Going from zero to excellent was his forté. Yet something was missing here. He was so bad that Haizaki was literally pushing him off his dick.

“Whoa, Ryouta, you gonna cry about it?” Haizaki broke through his thoughts with a sneer, a smirk on his face.

“As if. I don’t cry that easily, you know,” he retorted, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. Inside his head he desperately scrabbled around for some kind of memory of an experience like this he could remember, but-- but in all honesty he hadn’t exactly had his photographic memory turned on in those times Kasamatsu had surprised him, blurry as those times got after a few minutes. 

Haizaki didn’t seem bothered, pulling his underpants back up and scratching at his stomach under his shirt. “C’mon, this is pathetic. Breakin’ down my door to drool over me and call it a night? Hey, you wanna go out and pick up some girls instead? I know a good spot, they’ll show ya how it’s done.”

But Kise couldn’t clamber out of his pit of memories, or the lack thereof, crippled by his total lack of a point of reference. “That’s not a bad idea,” he sighed, taking in the sight of himself stripped down to his tank top and boxers on the world’s most boring bedspread, “I just... haven’t ever really had it that good, then, I guess.”

“You fucking with me?” Haizaki said from where he lay on his back. Kise shrugged.

After a moment of silence Kise saw movement out of the corner of his eye, Haizaki dragging a hand down his face and beneath it he wore an expression of pure frustration, and spoke in a growl of a voice to match. “You… Don’t make me laugh.”

“What?”

Then before he could react Haizaki was on him, pushing Kise’s hips to the bed with an iron grip and palming him roughly through his underwear, the sensation itself a shock at first before he leaned into the pleasure of it, the curve of his palm over the soft fabric so warm and firm on him. It was only the second time ever that he’d been touched by his old rival like this and as far as he was concerned, anybody would do, but it was a surprise nonetheless. After a moment of Kise’s hungry gasps he’d already become so hard -- Haizaki’s hand wandered to his bare thigh, two fingers edging beneath the hem of his boxers to tug them down with as much finesse and delicacy as he had with everything he did. So, none.

“Shougo-kun…!” Kise couldn’t help his voice wavering and his pitch climbing as he was exposed, but Haizaki didn’t pause at all, curling his fingers around Kise’s cock and fondling him while he climbed down and propped himself up on the mattress on his forearms. Kise noticed for the first time that he hadn’t lost any of his muscle tone since that single match in the Winter Cup before his attention was sharply diverted by the singularly tender, hot sensation of Haizaki’s tongue on him. He could only watch him long enough to see him sweep it up and down the shaft in slow, languid licks, spreading his tongue out and eyes closed like he was _tasting_ him before he shut his eyes against such an openly dirty sight, crossing his arms in front of his face in case he was tempted to look again. _God, what an embarrassing face I must be making right now_ , he thought to himself, trembling and holding in his breaths like it would help him to suppress his every desire to gasp aloud and buck into it.

“Oi,” He heard briefly between the sweet hot-cold feeling of Haizaki alternately kissing, licking him, and when he didn’t reply, Haizaki reached out and flicked his nipple through his tank. Kise squealed, flinging his arms down to glare at him over his chest.

“What?!”

“You gotta watch,” Haizaki said, holding his gaze even as he propped himself up between Kise’s legs, pausing to set his mouth on his thigh-- not for a kiss, for a hard suck that quickly veered into teeth and pain and he pulled away, leaving a bruise blooming on the skin. 

“Pervert,” Kise huffed and lay back, arms settling back onto his face like they’d block out the world but Haizaki shot out a hand and gripped his chin, wrenching it downwards until it hurt his neck. “Ow, ow, ow, Shougo-kun, why are you such a fucking _brute_ \--”

However Haizaki was staring back at him, his stone-grey eyes just a tone darker in the low light of the room, his lips mere millimetres from his erection. Waiting like some kind of predator. Kise gulped.

“You. Need. To. Watch.” he punctuated. 

“Wh-What for?” Kise replied, despite already beginning to catch on to what he was thinking, and his opinion of this particular Shougo-kun changed very, very quickly. Haizaki lapped at him again, eliciting a gasp of surprise.

“We’re alike, ain’t we, Ryouta,” he murmured, slowly withdrawing his hand to return to massaging Kise’s hip, “If you don’t see it with your own two eyes you can’t copy it. Be a good student, yeah? Watch and learn.”

Kise instantly shut up and relaxed under the hands-- and mouth -- of his new teacher. That was... exactly how it worked. He wondered if that was a part of Momoi’s intentions when he had started to visit her lately -- she knew him better than anyone, but maybe, maybe Haizaki understood him more on a molecular level. The way that he worked. 

Soon, he couldn’t think much more, but he kept his eyes open, didn’t miss a second.

***

If asked, he probably wouldn’t have been any better explaining how his copying abilities worked than Aomine was at describing the Zone. However if he did, it would be something like-- wearing clothes. Borrowing someone’s coat, except it was tailored to fit his every curve for the brief time he wore it, and he looked better in it. Haizaki’s style was pinning it roughly from the inside and returning a torn, pin-pricked garment. May as well let him keep it. Beside them on the stand Haizaki’s digital clock showed some stupid time past midnight, hours since he’d invited himself in; not that Kise was counting.

“Like this?” he said softly as he teased his tongue around the head of the cock in his hand. Beneath him Haizaki shifted, making a pleased purr of a noise, but he didn’t interrupt at all. Following the script Kise dipped his head, taking it in bit by bit, thinking more about the movements than the sensation of it in his mouth or the taste or-- just about anything that could be a defining feature of the person he was doing this to. Perfect Copy wasn’t about the opponent; it was about the originator.

“You know, you’d look so much better on your knees, Ryouta,” Haizaki remarked, his hand firm on the back of Kise’s head as he dipped lightly. If it was meant to get a rise out of him he wouldn’t get it, Kise thought as he forced his way back out of the hold and let Haizaki’s cock slip out of his mouth with a lewd _pop_.

“Shut up,” He said, focusing on the sight directly beneath him, every inch of him seeming to pulse and arch for more, and resumed his pace.

“Haha, looks like you love the taste,” he continued. _Does this guy ever stop talking_ , Kise thought. Didn’t you have to be _attracted_ to somebody for dirty talk to work? 

“Is that what it looks like?” Kise said between kisses, raising an eyebrow but didn’t do him the pleasure of looking back at him, focusing instead on squeezing his fist just a little tighter around the base of his cock, sinking in to bite at the join of Haizaki’s thigh. Not in revenge but in return; he sucked, left a second bruise next to the first. They match now, he remarked mentally, ignoring Haizaki’s groan of-- pain, or whatever it was he was feeling, the same burning sensation from the pit of his stomach to the ends of his fingers as Kise had when he’d done the same to him.

Just like stitching himself up to Haizaki’s shadow his movements filtered through exactly like it was a dance routine. Even as he dipped down to take him in his mouth again, he tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear, the same way Haizaki had done when a lock of long black hair had come loose from his ponytail, despite the difference in their looks. There was no point if he couldn’t replicate it exactly. 

“Damn, I’m pretty good, huh?” Haizaki grinned as Kise swallowed around him, or tried to, passing off his hitching breath as a dirty laugh, “For you to be so faithful to the-- the original, _fuck_ \--”

Kise hummed a response, probably intended as a _I give as good as I get_ , but the vibrations just seemed to turn him on more as Haizaki lifted his hips, gripping Kise’s head against him. This part wasn’t in the script-- so Kise simply relaxed, enough for his teeth to scrape at the shaft like a warning against defying the rules of the challenge Haizaki had set him. The ability to replicate it exactly depended on nothing deviating from the path he was on.

“Fuck, _Ryouta_ ,” he was gasping-- he _liked_ it.

Oh, so it was fine to roll with the punches? He could see why Haizaki enjoyed putting a signature spin on what he stole from others. But he knew not to overstep this boundary -- not brazenly, anyway -- and began to push himself up and back despite Haizaki resisting it with all his might, their strength equal like a magnetic force was trying to pull them back together.

“No, no, stay there, _shit_ ,” Haizaki growled until Kise had enough clearance to kneel back on the bedspread, forcing down Haizaki’s bucking hips to stay exactly where they were with one hand, wiping his chin with the other. Eyelids weighed down by the sleeplessness of his long day -- damn, it had been an early start that day too, hadn’t it, Kise thought idly, that was why he was getting irritated -- he cast his gaze over Haizaki struggling to sit up, staring at him fiercely like he was about to reach and grab exactly what he wanted. His cock was flushed red, precum already beading on the tip-- unless that was just what Kise’s mouth had left on him. Like a signature.

“Ahh,” Kise sighed, then settled back between his legs, putting his hand out to touch him. Haizaki rolled into it, glaring like he was offended that it wasn’t his mouth instead, and hesitated to lay back down, reaching out a hand to knot into Kise’s hair again.

“Hurry up, get back to it--”

“You interrupted me, Shougo-kun,” Kise whispered as he crouched over his abdomen, eyes low and glittering in the dark like a scavenger defending its prey, “ _Now I have to start all over again._ ”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MuroKi, the beginnings of MidoKi, KuroKi... Kise is entering the full disaster zone

The big day had arrived. Possibly the most formal event of the Generation of Miracles’ lives, with their hearts racing like at the ending buzzer of a match when Takao and Midorima finally emerged into the hall, holding hands, just before the room erupted into ceremonious yet boisterous applause at the sight of the two in their crisp, formal wedding kimonos. Takao hadn’t stopped grinning since that morning and although that never-dropping smile wasn’t an unusual sight, the redness beneath his eyes from happy tears certainly highlighted how long-awaited this had been for the two of them. Momoi even swore that she’d glimpsed Midorima sneak a cheek-kiss on the walk up through the hall.

Being a traditional wedding, anybody who wasn’t directly related to the married couple were only invited to the reception, after the religious ceremony itself had taken place at the temple closest to Midorima’s family home. Akashi was so diligent in explaining the proceedings to all of them that they wondered why he wasn’t the master of ceremonies, however he was there as a friend, not a _family_ friend, after all. It wasn’t exactly what anybody would have called _busy_ as a gathering but it certainly had a sociable atmosphere in the hired ceremony hall in the classic Japanese estate, and Takao seemed to have a lot more relatives than Midorima did. Between each family-member’s speech through the festivities, steadily bringing the tone of the event away from formality and towards sappiness, Kise snuck a look at Aomine across their ‘friends of groom A’ table. Sure, all of them were formally-dressed in suits so he had a pick of well-put-together folks to gaze at, but Aomine in a sharp suit after what Kuroko had told him--

That he and Aomine had--

Occasionally, Aomine caught his eye and gave him a grin or mimed being sick from sappiness, depending on the tone of whoever was speaking, to which he’d quietly return the smile or snort laughing under his breath.

Right…

Knowing that those things had happened between his two friends like that cast both of them in a whole new light. While Momoi had quickly shared that side of her private life with him and instantly normalised it, the moment she had touched him like that, these two were almost more unknown to Kise than ever. Aomine who, until then, had that unrestrained beastlike energy on the court yet hardly ever put his feelings into words, seemed a thousand times more sexual, but sensitive too. You’d have to be in order to treat Kuroko right. And Kuroko-- well, he’d always been mysterious even to someone watching him as keenly as Kise did -- suddenly appeared far more mature. The kind of guy who could have these relationships and not chat about them openly all the time the way Kise did when something was happening with Kasamatsu, back then. He couldn’t even help telling him about Moriyama, struggled to keep inside what he was doing with their old Teikou classmate until he was fit to burst, and reached to hold Momoi’s hand under the table whenever he thought about the two of them together. Kuroko had grown up so subtly. He was even telling Kise what he was doing wrong-- _him_! High-flying, a world traveller, always in the public eye. Who knew better about hiding his personal life than him?!

When he got bored, he paid attention to Aomine’s figure beneath the suit, his eyes widening when he removed his jacket and his biceps stood out beneath the taut shirt fabric. Somehow it was more hypnotic than seeing his bare ass on a group summer holiday.

That’s right, he already knew Aomine’s form inside out -- it wasn’t too hard to superimpose everything he remembered about him into an imaginary fantasy.

Aomine’s strong arms over him, gripping the headboard…

\--But Akashi caught his eye and led another round of applause; and then suddenly, Kise couldn’t fantasise at all because Akashi stood to offer a speech. As he moved towards the front of the room to take the microphone the remaining teammates fell silent for the first time since they’d been assembled at the table, even Momoi hushing her tears of emotion.

“I think I speak for all of us tonight when I say,” Akashi said with his suave, delicate voice filling the hall, every eye transfixed on him, “That I am happy to know that you have found your happiness.”

Right on cue, Kuroko looked at everybody on their table and seemed to prepare to clap a few moments after Akashi had paused. But that was precisely it, a pause.

“Congratulations, _Shintarou_.” Akashi’s voice echoed through the room. Several tables across a few of Midorima’s distant relatives and coworkers smiled and cooed at the sound of his given name; some quiet hush of ‘ _Kazunari took Midorima-kun’s family name, after all’_ amongst the older folk, but the Generation of Miracles sat frozen as his gaze lingered on those sat at his table. Kise felt like he had a crosshair somewhere on his face.

Then, he turned to look at the joyous couple with true warmth in his smile as though to defrost the air that only _those who knew_ felt. “Both of you. May your marriage be blessed.”

***

Not that anybody could ever _really_ call Midorima relaxed, since he frowned even in his sleep, but the beginnings of the after-afterparty -- when just about all of the blood relatives had gone home, leaving only the Teikou troupe and a few of Shuutoku’s stragglers to live it up in one of the side-rooms transformed for a karaoke party -- saw his expression soften, his jacket shed. Having the venue’s assistants to help to run the ceremony meant he could just be carted around, and it was nice, everyone felt, that he could finally sit with them all. He was even letting go of his lucky item for several minutes at a time, somebody remarked.

While Takao and captain Kimura were bickering over how to hook up the karaoke machine to the projector and audio speakers, Kise spotted Midorima sitting alone for possibly the first time in hours and slid into the seat next to him at the long table. Everybody else was already distracted by passing out the menus.

“Midorimacchi, hey!” he happened to catch him just as he’d removed his glasses and was massaging his temples against an oncoming headache.

“Kise,” he replied huskily, looking at him blearily before putting his glasses back on. _Whoa_ , Kise thought, the amount of talking that day he must have done to get to that level...

“You doing okay? You want a painkiller?”

“I would be-- extremely grateful.”

Once he’d shared his spare medicine with Midorima and watched him down it with a glass of water he was cradling like it was all that was connecting him to the world of the living, Kise checked nobody was listening, then grabbed a drinks menu from the pile on the table.

“By the way,” Kise whispered, lifting it up to block out their faces from the rest of the rabble, “I’m really sorry for what I did that made you so mad at me. The things I said. I’m trying to get better, so!”

“What?” Midorima knit his eyebrows. It didn’t match the peaceful, gracious look he’d worn throughout the entire reception even through multiple outfit changes, even all the way to the estate’s side-room for the afterparty, as if he’d suddenly removed a mask. Kise wanted to hit back with a comeback to deflect the fact that he was trying to apologise-- but, no, he had to stick to it. For once!

“You know? After my birthday,” he raised his eyebrows meaningfully to drive his point home, “When you didn’t really talk in the group chat and didn’t… wanna come to Maji Burger when I was there?”

Midorima let out a short sigh and adjusted his glasses. Seeing his left hand without its signature bandages just for this occasion was a surreal sight, like he’d been naked throughout the whole ceremony. It had taken the Generation of Miracles a good hour of squinting and staring throughout the speeches, Takao and Midorima perched on that stage in their elegant kimonos holding hands, for them to figure out where the lucky item was. After Kuroko checked the horoscopes on his phone they discovered that for Midorima, the item of the day was ‘a Scorpio’. The plants had aligned. Perhaps that was why he was furiously holding onto him all afternoon, Aomine joked.

“It was Gemini season, in fact.” he replied, and when Kise screwed up his face ready to whine in protest he shook his head, “There was a lot of work to do for this wedding as well as my exams. Please understand that it wasn’t personal, Kise. I wouldn’t have wanted to cause a rift between us before such an important day as this, in fact.”

“Midorimacchi…” Kise almost swooned at such an honest admission, “You should’ve just said, I totally get it! I thought that you…”

“That what?” Midorima seemed to deflate slightly as party poppers were set off over the table, its colourful streamers landing across his hair and Takao cackling in the distance. In that moment Kise seriously weighed up how much he wanted to bring up his stupid past self if Midorima had forgotten it or simply decided that such a small, inconsequential, shitty thing he’d said wasn’t worth remembering compared to the millions of things to plan for their big day. 

_Also,_ Kise thought, _if he’s not mad at me, then we’re friends again!_

_Friends…!_

“Er… nothing! Nothing!”

Midorima looked at him carefully for a moment, up until Takao leaned across the table to shove a plastic toy tambourine into his hands and corralled him over to the karaoke machine, laughing joyously.

***

“Ah!” Momoi said suddenly, staring out of the Maji Burger’s wide window-panes. Kise lowered his sunglasses to see what she was looking at. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, rain dashing down the glass in the July sunset; as though the rainy season had returned for one last hurrah. It was almost a surprise that they’d chatted away so much even after finishing their meals that they hadn’t heard it come down. It had been their first meetup since the wedding, after all; they had a lot to talk about now that Midorima had returned from his honeymoon and settled into their new house together as newlyweds. Kise wanted to hear everything but divulge nothing; save for a few domestic flights for his flight attendant job, he hadn’t been as ridiculously busy as he usually claimed to be. That was because… Momoi and Haizaki… were using up all of his time. They were good company, but he wasn’t exactly going to turn _that_ into a topic of conversation.

“Looks like there’s a slight downpour out there.” Akashi returned to the table from the bathrooms, pocketing his phone. “I’ve called a cab for us, Kuroko, Momoi.” 

Kise deflated slightly, briefly hoping that he would have been able to offer Kuroko a lift home; or better yet, Kuroko _and_ Aomine, but he reminded himself that those three in the taxi lived in the same part of town… It would have been too suspicious, probably. Still, Aomine might not notice and just be grateful not to have to fight the rain. Momoi breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thanks, Akashi-kun! I only have a parasol today, it wouldn’t have done any good!”

Aomine perked up from where he was slumped over the tabletop. “Oh, that ain’t a bad idea. Wanna share an Uber, Midorima?”

Before Kise could interject with his offer, Midorima shook his head. “No, thank you. Takao is due to pick me up shortly anyway, in fact.” He checked his wristwatch as if he couldn’t come any sooner. 

“Not in the rickshaw, I’m guessin’...”

Apparently the fact that his husband now shared his surname didn’t change anything in Midorima’s usual habits -- but nobody had really wanted to bring it up just yet. Between talk of his honeymoon and the ceremony itself there had been a thousand other things his friends were dying to ask. Midorima’s phone started to ring; he held it in one hand as he stood, his day’s lucky item firmly in the other: today, a pair of childrens’ learning chopsticks. “You have a waterproof jacket, don’t you, Aomine. You said you hadn’t done your daily jog yet today. It’s now or never.”

Aomine slumped, pulling his hood over his head in preparation. “Pssht, stingy. See ya.”

“Bye, Midorimacchi!”

Murasakibara let out a tidal wave of a sigh as Midorima disappeared. “Urgh… I’m not walking in that, I’m gonna take the bus to the station…”

Kise perked up. “Oh! Murasakibaracchi, want a ride? I’ll drop you there in my car!”

“Ehhh?” He narrowed his eyes at Kise. “You drive? To Maji Burger? _Seriously_?”

“You don’t _really_ think I take public transport to get here? With all those crowds?” Kise raised his eyebrows meaningfully: as if someone trying to avoid the media would take a train during evening rush hour. Murasakibara deflated slightly because, despite how he felt about it, it made sense. The weighing-up of the decision between waiting under a dripping bus stop with only his light layers versus being crammed in Kise’s car with him for a few minutes seemed to take its sweet time.

“So annoying…”

But soon he climbed into the passenger seat nonetheless, a few raindrops clinging to the ends of his long hair dripping across the gearbox as he tilted over to slam the door behind him. Kise’s car didn’t match his personality at all, sleek and silver but most importantly, slightly boring so that it wouldn’t stand out. At least it was big enough to have legroom for… most of Kise’s friends.

“Se-chin, your car smells too strong.”

“You think?” Kise removed his sunglasses as he settled in, giving the little vanilla-scented bird-shaped air freshener a fond poke, “It smells better than the car fumes on the roads, though!”

“It’s, like, overpowering. Blegh.” He replied, heavy-lidded eyes squinting to drive home his point.

“Pfft! Well then, if you had your own car, what would you make it smell like?”

“Jelly Belly,” Murasakibara replied and bent down to arrange his bag somehow over his sneakers in a way that didn’t have the straps tangled up between his long legs struggling to fit in the space. Kise laughed at the sound of it as they pulled out the parking-lot. His radio kicked into a high volume that he turned down quickly while he navigated the rainy roads. There was the crunch of plastic and Murasakbara kicked an empty mineral water bottle out from under his feet. Then after neither of them spoke for a moment, no sounds of eating that Kise thought always accompanied this man, he heard the squeak of a plastic tube being popped open next to him.

“You’re gonna eat in my car? What if you get bits in the carpet?” Kise pouted. 

“Found some in my pocket,” Murasakibara murmured happily, “Jelly Belly.” Kise glanced sidelong to see him fondly toting the tube full of candy. The lyrics of the radio’s music were quickly drowned out by the quiet yet continuous sound of him chewing and munching as though the taste of the sweets were a melodic song in themselves.

The journey in itself wasn’t long, but to Kise’s short attention-span, long enough for at least a little conversation. For him to get a few answers to his questions and go somewhere towards satisfying his burning curiosity.

“So, like, how was your journey home after the wedding the other day, Murasakibaracchi? Busy roads?”

He sniffed. “Troublesome. Mido-chin’s family lives too far out,” then under his breath he mumbled to himself, “Ehhh… So now does Taka-chin become ‘Mido-chin Number 2’? Haaa, what a nuisance… I’ll get him to tell me...”

“We left pretty late, didn’t we, haha. Hopefully you didn’t wake up your girlfriend arriving home, huh?”

“She’s my _flatmate_ , not my girl--” Murasakibara stopped suddenly, swallowing the chewed-up candy in his mouth. Although Kise didn’t look he could sense him turn to stare at him, eyes narrowing. 

“...What?” Kise broke the silence first, unable to keep a straight face.

“I don’t like this game you’re playing.” 

“Whaaat? What game, I’m just making small-talk!” he protested to the very best of his ability without over-doing his defensive tone. Next to him Murasakibara huffed and sank down a little in his seat despite the logistics of it seeming almost impossible, then tucked his legs up slightly. “Oh-- hey, no, don’t put your shoes up there! You’ll get it muddy!”

“It’s what you get for being annoying,” he sighed, eating his jellybeans much more resolutely.

“And here I just wanted some quality time with you, Murasakibaracchi…” Kise said sadly with the key ingredient to his heartbroken tone being a hint of genuine sadness. He couldn’t resist glancing aside after a few quiet seconds, hoping for a glimpse of apology on his teammate’s face, but instead he locked eyes with him wearing a dead-eyed irritated expression.

“...Fine,” Murasakibara said, turning to look back out the window, and Kise couldn’t help thinking how much of a huge baby he could be despite his size. It was as though the wedding had thawed out some of the hard-hearted feelings Kise carried, like that Midorima couldn’t be romantic too, or that Aomine wouldn’t get misty-eyed at something like a wedding reception, not even the ceremony itself.

He tried to condense down what he would know about his friend if he saw him through somebody else’s eyes. Murasakibara-kun… Mukkun… Atsushi. Like a cute pet he’d come to your beck and call if you have the right snacks to hand. Dozes a lot, doesn’t do what he’s told, but as fierce as a guard dog when used against the right person.

...When he saw it like that, Kise could see how somebody would find him cute, the same way he felt about Momoi when she lay in his arms in bed.

“Ew,” Murasakibara murmured suddenly.

“Huh? Huh? Did you find something gross in the glovebox?”

Behind those stubbornly-long strands of hair that always tumbled into his face, he wrinkled his nose. “I feel like you’re thinking something weird, Se-chin.”

“Eh?” Fear stabbed him through the heart but Kise quickly reeled the feeling back in just as he pulled over to join a queue of cars waiting to enter the train station parking-lot. “Nooooo, me? I was just thinking about… stuff… Like, how you don’t wanna talk to me about those kinds of things…”

“Like what? Girlfriends? Fine, you’ll know if I get one,” Murasakibara countered, idly shaking out the empty tube into his palm just in case any errand jellybeans were stuck to the base. He looked through it like a telescope even in the dark of the car.

“Whoa, so Murasakibaracchi likes girls too, huh…”

“I don’t like ‘em especially. I just like who I like.”

“Ooh, really? So you don’t even have a type?”

“Se-chin, you’re being _sooooo_ irritating, leave me alone,” he whined nasally, sticking his hand in his pocket to exchange his empty candy tube for his train pass. “First you don’t wanna listen to anybody else’s stuff ever because your stupid boyfriend is _toooo busyyy_ to go on a date with you and you’re _toooo buuusyyy_ to see him, and then suddenly you’re up in our faces about your stupid breakup, and now you’re sticking your nose in these things I don’t wanna talk about…”

“A-Ah… Is that how it is?” Kise honestly felt a little guilty when he laid it all out like that, but mostly, he was curious about the last thing-- it was something that he didn’t want to talk about, not an absence of things happening in his life. “My bad, Murasakibaracchi… I guess I was pretty mean. Thinking about it, I was too wrapped up with Kasamatsu-senpai, I realise it now… But now Midorimacchi has gotten married, I started to get romantic too, so… Forgive me for prying, okay?”

That’s right, he was just getting sappy, wasn’t he -- thinking of all the ways in which his friends were sensual, romantic people, committed enough for a wedding to happen, or trusting one another to be friends-with-benefits even though he was newly single. He could be excused for prying a little. It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong -- he was just playing at romance. Trying to figure out what he liked, who he was, with the people he trusted most in his life. His softly-spoken apology seemed to work exactly the way he’d hoped it would, because Murasakibara seemed to deflate slightly, lowering his legs.

“Whatever. Even some player like you, Se-chin, can’t help thinking about that kind of thing when it’s a wedding, I guess.”

He let the accusation fly over his head and smiled gratefully that he’d let it go. The queue was slow-moving, still a few cars behind the next one by the taxi rank. After a few lurching stop-and-starts closer, Kise took a breath.

“I’m curious, Murasakibaracchi… Do you think about finding someone to love?”

“... I dunno.”

“Ehhh? So vague… do you or don’t you? I do, all the time.”

He didn’t say anything, but Kise heard the rustle of a wrapper from his pocket, and saw Murasakibara pull out yet another item. But before he could complain he noticed it was empty already -- a crinkled, purple Maiubo snack wrapper. Mentaiko. His favourite flavour.

“It’s troublesome. Trying to find someone.” he muttered. Kise couldn’t read his face where his hair had swept down across his cheeks as he examined the empty packet. Murasakibara turned to look out of the window as they made their steady approach to the station. One car away.

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t hurt to try, would it?” Kise smiled.

“It would hurt… if they didn’t like me back. And that’d be worse.”

And like that, as the car glided into the waiting-space, he’d opened up to him.

His heart pounding in his chest, Kise wondered if he could achieve this step-change, too. The same way that he’d been able to to open up his relationship with Momoi to further possibilities.

What was the worst that could happen? If he dipped into the spirit of the fabled person that Murasakibara _liked_?

Everything he could recall about Himuro, that elusive, mysterious rival of Kagami’s, bubbled up in his mind like a distilled sugar syrup; an elegantly soft voice, unrivalled intensity in his tone, and the way he crushed together his syllables in a fluent little word like he signed off everything he said with a flick of an ink brush. Cool. Fluid. He’d only met him a couple of times, once at close proximity at that birthday party at Kagami’s place, and the impression he had left was like a crisp footprint in snow. Instantly crystallised in his memory.

“Well, you could find somebody who’s _just like_ who you like,” Kise said, his voice lowering, losing his nasal tone, icy, a delicate yet blatant mimicry of Himuro exactly, “right _, Atsushi_?”

Right away Murasakibara whipped his head around to stare at him, his eyes as sleepy-looking as ever yet-- intense, burning, smouldering caramel as he reached around to grab the back of Kise’s head and pull him roughly forward into-- more of a collision than a kiss. A deep kiss that was all tongue. Murasakibara was as strong as he looked, forcing his way past Kise’s teeth with his tongue; or perhaps he was simply dominant in the shock of the moment. Just as suddenly as he’d grabbed him Murasakibara pulled away after a thorough exploration, a string of saliva connecting their lips as they parted. Kise gazed at him, panting. He’d forgotten how to breathe. Murasakibara was-- he tasted sweet with echoes of those candies, he’d felt colossal in his mouth, he left him feeling used. Kise realised he was trembling with the thrill. 

No... 

With fear.

“If you. _Ever._ Do that again, Se-chin,” he said slowly, staring at him piercingly under those low-drawn eyelids, “I will crush you _for real_.”

And with that, he climbed out of the car and slammed the door behind him.

It took Kise several seconds and a backed-up queue of cars honking their horns behind him for him to finally remember how to drive, and to consider that maybe, just maybe, he was pushing it a little with some of his close friends.

***

As usual Kuroko was one of the first to emerge from the lecture hall. He easily slipped past the other students eager to dash to their part-time jobs, carrying only his slim messenger-bag with his notebooks. He paused outside to check his phone before he slowly looked up to see a familiar person waiting for him, looking terribly out of place -- but only to him.

“Kise-kun,” he greeted him with a gentle nod once he was a little closer. Even somewhere outside of the city centre, Kise could still be recognised if he was pointed out. He’d appeared in every single issue of Zunon Boy since his debut, and his brief sports legacy at Kaijou had only pinned him as a future actor; combined with his modelling jobs making ripples through the fashion industry he couldn’t risk being spotted in public. At least, that was what he claimed his agent had told him. _Probably because he’s always up to no good_ , Aomine had commented at the time. Today he wore a sports cap, tinted glasses, a baggy t-shirt. Nothing close-fitted; the opposite of what he usually wore in magazine spreads. The fact that Kuroko recognised that much about him made him pause for thought.

“Yo! Your campus is so nice, Kurokocchi,” Kise marvelled aloud, watching the other students filter past as they stood by the side of the walkway, “Nothing like how sports colleges are. Feels like there are so many different types of people here!”

“You mean, different fields of study?”

“I guess. Attracts all sorts of personalities.” he laughed.

Kuroko watched him silently then started heading towards the main faculty building. Kise followed him like a puppy. The trees dotted around the campus had long since shed their spring blossoms, and now fully-leafed, it felt greener, almost like a park if it wasn’t for the seminar rooms and department buildings. Kasamatsu and Momoi’s sports colleges had a lot of grass lawns, but laid down with tracks, not decorated with trees -- like pollen was going to ruin some young athlete’s career.

“You sure have a packed-out day, don’t you?” Kise commented, marvelling at the student noticeboard in the reception. 

“That would be because… we were meant to meet up for tea at four o’clock. It’s two-thirty now and I still have a few errands.” Kuroko said as he handed his forms over to the attendant. Kise made a thoughtful noise and checked his smart watch, or at least pretended to.

“Well, I don’t mind keeping you company! I just wanted to see what it’s like here. See you in your element!” Kise smiled and lifted his sunglasses over the brim of his cap, “It’s so rare that we see each other outside of like-- karaoke, or Maji Burger, or whatever with everyone there.”

“That is true, I suppose,” Kuroko agreed. He didn’t know how much of those circumstances were intentional, but it worked out in his favour. It was just obvious enough that Kise had caught onto it. Kise followed him out to the social studies department, waiting in the ground floor during his tutor meeting; across to the student services building for account payments; into the storage room for the arts and crafts club to check materials; into the library foyer for printing his lecture notes--

“Kise-kun…” he finally said from behind his locker door once they were in the sports club changing-rooms, worn down by his constant presence like seeing the sun blazing in the corner of his eye everywhere he looked, as though his shadow had become a pool of glittering gold for its obnoxious eye-catching existence, “I did say I would be free at four o’clock for a reason.”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s been fun! My shoot ended ages ago anyway. Besides, I had no idea you were so busy, Kurokocchi! And that you’re still playing basketball, too, that’s a surprise to me. When were you gonna tell us?” Kise grinned from the bench, seeming totally relaxed. Kuroko looked at him and let out a quiet sigh.

“I did tell everyone when I joined. We aren’t at the level to make it into tournaments though.”

“Oh?! Wow, my bad, I must have missed that! But you have to let me come see you play sometime, okay?”

After a long moment of staring at the back of his locker with its neatly-rolled towels and a spare bottle of water, Kuroko closed it and turned to face Kise on the bench. He didn’t appear bothered at all by anything Kuroko had said, or even the hour he had spent trailing him around like a mascot character. If he was a puppy, his tail would have been swishing excitedly.

But he wasn’t that innocent, really.

More like a fox waiting to scavenge...

“You are… trying to speed things up, aren’t you, Kise-kun.”

“How do you mean?” he replied with only the thinnest veneer of not knowing; he couldn’t help it. He wanted Kuroko to instigate it. Kuroko’s eyes flitted to the door to the changing-rooms, either trying to avoid Kise’s gaze or buy some time to think.

“You want to know what happened with me and Aomine-kun. That’s why you keep trying to catch me on my own.”

Kise smiled: a wonky, embarrassed smile like he’d been caught out, staring at Kuroko’s profile as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. “I’m just... _soooo_ curious. You and him. Were you actually, you know, an item?”

Kuroko looked back at him. “Not in such terms. He has been one of my best friends all this time. Only, we were close in those other ways, too…”

“Like with Momocchi? You know-- how she calls herself your girlfriend?”

The air between them nearly crackled with tension.

“No,” Kuroko said after a steady exhale, “Different to how I am with Momoi-san.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “You ought to know about that already.”

“Ahhh…” Kise gave a careful laugh. The fact that Kuroko could read him so flawlessly, that hadn’t ever changed, he could never fake anything in front of him. In the back of his mind he wondered briefly how much Momoi had told him, but just hearing Kuroko’s tone he could guess that he knew _exactly_ what was going on between them. “You caught me, I guess…”

“She happened to tell me that you two are close in that way. Good for you, if it will make you happy.”

Kise felt a swell of pride hearing Kuroko’s approval, however blunt. “She does! But yeah, she’s crazy about you in a way I just can’t imagine Aominecchi being…”

Just then, Kise saw a shadow cast over his knees, and raised his head to see his own fake-thoughtful expression reflected in Kuroko’s deep eyes as he stood between Kise’s legs. That misdirection still caught him out, after all these years; he never noticed him budge from the locker. Or-- or maybe that was what he meant when he called him ‘self-centred’? Too occupied with his own affairs? His brain emptied every thought it was holding onto at that moment, vision filled with Kuroko staring down at him.

“K… Kurokocchi?” 

He didn’t reply for a moment, putting his hands out to settle on Kise’s shoulders, the small distance between them making Kise realise he was looking _up_ at him. He’d never-- he’d never done that. He couldn’t even remember the last time he looked up at _anybody_ standing this close to him. Kuroko’s palms were square, strong. His body leaned into the contact, the way he always did when Kuroko tossed him even a crumb of attention, rolling up into his palms and extending his hands to hold Kuroko by the hips in front of him.

“You really…” Kuroko began, then stopped himself, frowning slightly, and was Kise imagining it or did he look a little flushed? Frustrated? It was so rare that he revealed these negative emotions outside of the stress of a game. “...You really want to know how it is to be friends _and_ lovers, don’t you?”

“What? _What_? Huh?” Kise scrabbled for any grip on reality, fiddling anxiously at Kuroko’s shirt until he thumbed at his skin beneath it, warm and soft. It was as if he’d reached deep into his brain and pulled out something he didn’t know other people could see. _Kasamatsu wanted to be_ friends _with me_ , it cried, read plainly on his face.

“That’s why you’re-- being so close with Momoi-san. And you tried to be with Murasakibara-kun, too. Or am I mistaken?” he continued, sliding his hands from Kise’s shoulders along his collarbones to his neck, gently rubbing his thumbs up and down the sides of his neck. Kise couldn’t suppress a shiver that filtered through into his words with nervousness.

“It’s, I’m… I was curious-- and I really do treasure Momocchi as a friend, I promise I’m--”

“Please don’t misunderstand, Kise-kun. I don’t doubt that you’re treating her well, since I know you care about her and she knows how to handle you. She would let you know if you ever stepped out of line.” Kuroko said, breaking their gaze to pull Kise’s hat off and place it next to him on the bench. It made Kise feel uncovered, his hair fluffed up from the motion, unprepared for what Kuroko would say next-- “I’m worried about you.”

“...Eh? About _me_?” Kise’s world, shattered with the knowledge of Kuroko’s secret sexy past, imploded a second time in a burst of pink. He could hardly control his eyes widening, staring straight up at Kuroko with his mouth dropping open, enthralled. To make matters worse-- more intense-- Kuroko was biting on his lower lip, looking downright shy as he held his gaze. Embarrassed to have said it.

 _Oh my god_ , Kise thought, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck, _this can’t really be happening to me. To me?!_

He wanted-- he’d craved Kuroko’s friendliness, his company all this time, but something like this? The feel of his skin, the scent of his fabric softener, his fingers playing in his hair? This was the stuff of fantasy. Like he’d found a unicorn. His brain fizzed with white noise like every thought had been replaced with fireworks. Was it real?

“Kise-kun, you’re rebounding. Really badly. This is what a rebound looks like.” Kuroko’s petting turned into smoothing Kise’s hair down tenderly. “It isn’t great.”

“Oh, I’m not…” Kise’s voice faltered, “I’m not… trying to sleep with you--”

“But you keep asking me about what it was like when I was sleeping with Aomine-kun. That isn’t something that we can talk about one-sidedly.”

“...Kurokocchi, you’re really close…”

Kuroko was standing in such a way that Kise had no choice but to keep his legs spread to accommodate him, and although he was only sitting on that bench fully-clothed -- a bench that no doubt a thousand other butt-naked students had sat on before -- it felt more dangerous than being in Haizaki’s bed in the nude. Like he was dropping a glass to the floor in slow-motion.

“If you must know, it was after everything happened with Kagami-kun. Neither of us were doing well at that time, but at least we had forgiven each other for… everything else. Surely you remember that.”

“I- I didn’t see much of either of you guys during the interhighs-- the team, Kaijou, we were still competing and just when Senpai had graduated, we got a new coach--”

“Both ourselves and Touou were knocked out. Because neither ace could compete strongly. So, no, we didn’t see much of you and the others. I suppose you could say we were lonely.”

Kuroko’s touch was at odds with the story he was telling; his hand was pinching at the fabric of that oversized shirt of Kise’s, pulling it up ever so slowly until the hem tickled along his stomach and made him shiver. After a moment Kuroko let go and almost thoughtfully put a hand down to his bared chest. It was gentle, just the pads of his fingertips perfectly on the split between his pecs, but Kise felt himself broiling. Kuroko was deadpan at the best of times, refreshingly honest, the slightest bit hard-handed and completely, completely respectful; he always refused to be taken in by whatever fakeries Kise wore or threw out over the years, but he also saw him for what he was worth. His skills. His strengths and his weaknesses. He stayed true to himself and others. Being looked at by Kuroko was addictive, like-- like with him, he was being stripped down to the barest parts of the person you could call Kise Ryouta. Like this way, he could finally see that ‘himself’ people wanted him to find. _Kuroko-- was touching him._

“But that’s not a good reason to be with somebody,” Kuroko continued, stroking him in small careful circles as though keen to avoid touching his nipples, slowly working his way down until Kise was keening at the feel of his hand below his navel, “It doesn’t last and it doesn’t fix the problem you had in the first place. That’s why I’m worried about you, Kise-kun. I feel as though you’re trying to race to the finish line and find your next crush quickly before you come to terms with everything by yourself.”

“But,” Kise tried to counter just as Kuroko thumbed at his waistband and popped the button on his jeans; then, he was holding his breath, biting down on his lip to try to withhold the scream of surprise and joy that was trying to explode out of him at finally having Kuroko’s attention, and like this, no less, this was unreal, this was a dream--

“Is this exciting because it’s me?” Kuroko asked honestly, and for the first time since he’d started touching him Kise met his eyes. He was looking at him hazily, just as flushed as Kise was like he knew they shouldn’t be doing something like this here, like he wondered, too, if this kind of tension-breaking was a long time coming, but something in the way he was breathing easily felt like this would all change with his response.

“Of… of course it is. It’s _you_ , Kurokocchi,” he breathed, shaking.

That was when he leaned in to kiss him, so chastely and mildly, and moved away in an instant.

Kise struggled to catch up with what was happening but Kuroko was standing back, leaving him on the bench with his legs spread, torso bared, sweating and flushed and hard and completely unable to register which part of it had been real. 

“I feel the same.” Kuroko said as though he felt exactly what Kise was going through even as he stood by the lockers and watched him quietly.

“So… Kurokocchi, why don’t we--” he gasped, leaning forward as if to grab him, but Kuroko sidestepped.

“Because you’re rebounding… You’re only going to get hurt when we can’t continue any more.”

He huffed. It sounded like an excuse. Since when did anybody care if he hurt? Not a single person had been truly sympathetic with him after Kasamatsu dumped him. Especially Kuroko, who seemed hellbent on lecturing him about being by himself. Kise swallowed his pride and rearranged his clothes.

“Then when I mentioned about dating Aominecchi, why did you ask why nothing was stopping me?”

Kuroko frowned, finally.

“I was… truly curious. I didn’t think you would keep thinking about me or about him like this.”

Kise couldn’t help looking guilty, as minor as that feeling was in the pool of injustice Kuroko was making him feel -- whether that was his intention or not.

“Whoever it’s with, if you’re going to continue to do this kind of thing… with all of our friends, especially,” Kuroko continued, arms folded, “You won’t just hurt others but you are going to get hurt yourself, as well.”

“You say that, but aren’t you dating like-- three people right now, Kurokocchi?” Kise couldn’t help pointing out as he arranged his sports cap. Something about that didn’t seem fair to him even if he didn’t know the people in question.

“Yes.” Kuroko answered without hesitation, “And we are all very serious about it. Are you serious about what you’re doing? Are you serious about how you’re treating everybody, Kise-kun?”

He didn’t have a good answer for that, but he struggled to come back with _something_ , at least. “I’m just trying to get some answers since apparently I don’t _know_ anything about relationships.”

“Please don’t use other people for something like that,” Kuroko said bluntly and shrugged his messenger-bag back onto his shoulder. “If you hurt any of our friends, being irresponsible like this… I won’t be able to forgive you, Kise-kun.”

Strong words. He didn’t want to put his friendship on the line, but, if only Kuroko understood…

“You said Momocchi can handle herself; everyone else is pretty strong too, right? So, I won’t hurt anybody. They’ll stop me before I can.”

“Of course.”

“And… Aominecchi is single too, right?”

Kuroko narrowed his eyes.

“He said he isn’t interested in relationships at the moment.”

“Well, he hasn’t met the real me yet!” Kise said and stood, wiping the lenses of his sunglasses with the hem of his shirt. In front of the lockers Kuroko frowned up at him, then glanced away and headed out of the changing-room.

“Neither have you.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KiTaka, AkaKi, MidoKi! Enjoy this nightmare!

“Heard Shintarou got hitched,” Haizaki said the next evening halfway through his second cigarette, his tone flat as ever when he was initiating conversation while trying to be flippant about it. Kise picked up on that habit a while back but he didn’t point it out. That kind of thing was… to be saved for later. Next to him in bed Kise perked up from where he was recovering on the pillows, rolling over onto his front like he was about to get into the juiciest part of a long gossipy phonecall.

“Eehh, how’d you find out? I mean, yeah he did, but I didn’t see you there!”

“Didn’t get an invite. Dunno why, since Atsushi and Daiki and all the rabble came, didn’t they.” He stopped to exhale, the space above the bed slowly filling with fragrant smoke. Kise was coming to hate the scent a little less, only disliking the way he’d blow it into his face if they argued. Eventually Haizaki caved in to his bedmate’s incessant sparkling, hungry expression next to him. “Saw it on Facebook.”

“W-Wow, you still have us all friended on there, Shougo-kun? You should’ve said something! Leave a nice comment or something to congratulate him. I’ll tell him for you!”

“Nah. He’s a pain in the ass.”

Kise snorted. He couldn’t help it -- maybe his terrible manners were rubbing off on him. Here, in Haizaki’s apartment far away from everybody’s strict standards and double-layered conversations, the world seemed a little simpler. “With an attitude like that, I guess not inviting you was a good move...”

“I mean, you’re a pain in the ass, too.” Haizaki rolled his eyes as he took another drag. Next to him Kise put his chin in his hands, wriggled until the bedsheet slipped down to the small of his back.

“Then you shouldn’t let me come here. Tell me to go away, if you’re that busy.”

“Heh, you think that works on you? When was the last time someone told you ‘no’, Ryouta?”

It was a strange question. Mentally, Kise ran through the situation earlier, meeting Haizaki after work, except in this re-run he said _no_. Where would that leave him? Where would he go? What would he do?

If he dug down deep the strongest memory he had of such a time was-- being taken off the court with his injury. Sitting out the most crucial parts; beating himself up, full of regrets afterwards. That was the strongest _no_ to ever affect him. It had nothing to do with personality or boundaries, just-- permission, plain and simple. And sure, Murasakibara and Kuroko had turned him down in their own ways, but that wasn’t serious. They weren’t saying no to a relationship. Nothing had been lost.

... Even somebody difficult like Haizaki… To his merit, he had even worn a condom ever since that first time, on the condition that Kise either had to buy them or put them on him. He didn’t make it easy for him but he didn’t _refuse_.

“You really gotta think about it, huh? I wouldn’t mind being your first ‘no’. Imagine you’d make a nice face. Like you dunno what to do with yourself if you don’t have someone to attach yourself to. Like a bedbug.”

“Don’t compare me to an insect!” Kise kicked him in the leg, toenails first. Haizaki choked on an inhale and spluttered into a coughing fit, clutching his stabbed shin.

“Fuck, Ryouta, don’t take it personally!”

He wasn’t, because taking any insult from Haizaki personally was the first mistake into actually getting aggravated by someone as rotten as him, but it was a dig he didn’t expect; he thought they were, he didn’t know. Not friends. But not enemies any longer. A relationship existed.

Besides that, the implication that he was some kind of parasite? An add-on?

Screw that! He was being independent! He was a free agent, he didn’t need people to imprint on!

Which is why he was… in Haizaki’s bed twice a week? And was testing out his chemistry with everybody he respected?

Was that wrong?

“...Oi, why’re you lookin’ at me like that, Ryouta? Used your bad leg?”

Kise attempted to smother him with a pillow, mostly to stop him seeing the horrible realisation spreading over his face.

***

Midorima’s eyes were hard and completely unwavering in their focus. Sniper’s eyes. Surgeon’s eyes. Kise didn’t think he’d find himself so pressured just being under his gaze. Normally, it took a lot more than merely being stared at to unnerve him but here he was, sweating lightly under his attention.

The senior doctor at his appointment seemed nice enough but Kise simply couldn’t concentrate on the questions being asked while Midorima -- no, _student doctor_ Midorima -- was glaring at him over his senior’s shoulder and had done so ever since he’d set foot in the room. _Geez_ , Kise whined mentally like it would somehow transfer telepathically to his friend, _I’m not your patient because I want to be! This place is just convenient for my drop-in appointment!_

“...Are these vaccinations correct? Kise-san?” The doctor’s droning voice faded back into focus where the sound of the wind had whooshed over him; he was tapping at his formal request documentation from the airline he worked for.

“Umm, yeah!” Kise replied without really looking at the paper. It was a regular occurrence, his vaccinations and boosters to allow him to travel safely, even if truthfully he was only going to be seeing the inside of the plane cabin and then the inside of a hotel. It was a safety precaution that he was already used to. The airline knew what they were doing. Checking it over was just a formality.

“Do you have any questions about these before we begin? For example, any health concerns that you’d like to discuss.”

“Ummm... “ Kise held Midorima’s stare over his shoulder, and was it just him, or was he really glaring? Like, a death glare? Spite glare? What exactly had he heard, and from who? Not that Kise really cared, but it would be nice to know where he stood with him… “Yeah, does he-- I mean, your student, have to be in the room at the same time?”

“Oh, it will be highly beneficial for Midorima-kun to observe, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I see! Then, I don’t mind,” Kise gave him his sunniest false smile, “Please be gentle with me, though! I bruise easily!”

Kise emerged from the examination room much, much sorer than he’d wanted to be first thing in the morning. He’d accidentally tensed up just as the needle was going in and caused a fuss from the shock of being stabbed, although Midorima had straight away handled the situation very well and even managed to administer the injection properly himself at the second attempt. It… probably helped that when he was doing it himself, with a firm hand on Kise’s wrist and instantly applying pressure on his upper arm as the syringe withdrew, he wasn’t staring Kise down. He did it so professionally, slightly relaxed, his voice low as he told Kise exactly what was going to hurt and when and how, and to his surprise it went smoothly. And this way he could properly take in Midorima’s face of concentration as it was happening which was that much more familiar to him, the expression he used to wear when he stayed practising 3-pointers in the gymnasium for hours after practice ended; however the look he was giving him earlier, that was the one he saw most often during games when Aomine tore up the court, or when everybody was falling out. Not so much hatred. Perhaps more… annoyance?

Anyway, the fact remained that Midorima had kicked his day off to a painful start. He didn’t think he was angry with him, at least if he was to take him at his word when they’d spoken at his wedding, so why was he staring so much? Stood outside the examination room he shivered, practically feeling the glare through the door. Maybe he was still dealing with family or wedding stress, or something. Almost on cue as Kise turned to leave, a familiar face appeared from the hallway.

“Kise!” Takao called out, waving.

“Takao! Wow, what’re you doing here--” Kise glanced him up and down in his nurse’s scrubs, flat-soled shoes, a little photo ID clipped to his pocket; the polar opposite of Kise’s half-casual look, sunglasses perched atop his head ready to go incognito the instant he got through to reception. “Eh?! You work here too?”

“Eheheh. It’s just a coincidence, but yeah, I’m here for half the week now! Starting my journey in the world of nursing! Shame you had that airline premium report thing or I would’ve done your jab for you!”

The word ‘jab’ made Kise wince. “Ohhh, I was wondering why Midorimacchi was the one to do it.”

“Wow, you’re Shin-chan’s first customer! I mean, patient,” Takao chuckled, “It’s more for his bedside manner-- you know, his people skills, while he’s still studyin’. You wouldn’t know it but he’s pretty nervous. So? How did he score?”

He pulled his best kicked-puppy face. “I hate this kind of painful thing either way, so…”

“Hahaha! Good answer!”

So he was nervous…! That would explain why Midorima was so stern right up until it was his chance to actually physically do something. He was that kind of person, wasn’t he, who looked less stressed when he was involved in the game rather than sitting around strategising.

...Besides, that made a lot more sense than him trying to unnerve Kise. Midorima was somebody who never lied. He wouldn’t get anything out of making him uncomfortable without saying why. It felt like that slight weight of suspicion was lifted from his chest.

“So, you travelling soon? I mean, of course you are, but Shin-chan said you hadn’t left Japan in a while…”

“Yeah, I took a week off for the modelling trip a while ago, had some jobs, then I’ve been on standby for ages…” Kise sighed dramatically, rubbing the spot on his upper arm where the injection site tingled, “But now it’s the summer break! So you know, that means holidays in these tropical places for everybody... I was just getting used to a life free of customer service!”

Takao chuckled. “Aw, welcome to my world! Man, we felt like that on our honeymoon. Going back to reality was like, _ka-pow_! ‘Whaddya mean I can’t spend all day in bed?! I have to talk to _people_?’ Haha!”

“Mmm,” Kise hummed sympathetically, although really the issue wasn’t with talking to people, it was more about all of the responsibilities that came with the flight attendant job. Dealing with cross customers and coworkers who were in a bad mood were easily dealt with in the moment but he brought it home. And then when he slept over in the hotel at the destination, he couldn’t help feeling that he’d rather at least be there with somebody, or be able to video call over something better than 3MB/sec crappy free wifi. For some reason this year it was hitting him harder than usual. He normally thrived with the chaotic schedule and the ever-changing scenery.

He wondered if maybe he’d found something to hold onto here in Tokyo. Places he would rather be; people he would rather see. He’d have a more eventful evening at Haizaki’s place or in Maji Burger with his friends all around than in a hotel lobby, Kise thought sadly.

When he looked at Takao, the colour in his face and the lightest tan from their sunny holiday brought out his amber eyes; he practically lit up the sterile clinic corridor with its boring linoleum floors and plain walls, even in his pale-blue scrubs. Like a little sunny holiday personified. 

“...Remind me, Takao, where you went on your honeymoon again?”

“Oh, haha, was it your airline?! Just down to Okinawa. Shin-chan wanted to see some shrines and pet some wildcats. Super sunny at this time of year -- not that Shin-chan tanned at all! We’re built different, I guess,” he said, stretching out his arm sideways and looking it up and down, “I still ended up with a t-shirt tan like a doofus, though, heh.”

Without much thought to it Kise reached out and tugged his sleeve up an inch, baring a paler stripe of skin. Takao giggled as though it tickled, but suddenly fell quiet, seeing Kise’s measured expression. 

“Wow, you’re right. You’re so light up here, but so dark on the arms…”

“Yeah, haha… Well, you know,” Takao gabbled, “Not much opportunity to get out when I’m in here all day!”

“You probably get out a little bit more than Midorimacchi does, don’t you? Stuck in that stuffy office all day.” There was something so terribly official and perfect about how Midorima and Takao were, Kise thought. His impressions of them fluctuated over the years from ‘cute couple’ to ‘too serious’ to ‘cute’ again, when they were engaged the instant Midorima was granted permission to shadow his seniors in the workplace alongside his degree, to ‘serious’ again after the reception; but it was only now that Kise was paying special attention to his partner. Takao wasn’t… the kind of standard that Kise thought somebody like him would go for. Neither was Kasamatsu, part of him was starting to think, but that was only based on looks and really, that felt like something the Kise of middle school would have said. Like a greedy, terrible part of him was coming back. Or maybe Haizaki was actually rubbing off on him now. It was about the attitude really, wasn’t it? The temperament? 

Maybe he was just jealous. That somebody like Takao was cherished and vowed to be with forever and ever and Kise just plain old _wasn’t_. Kuroko was telling him to stop trying to get involved with friends but when everybody seemed happily paired-up with long-time besties, where would that leave him?

Kise let go of Takao’s sleeve, but ran his fingers down the inside of the cuff slowly as he withdrew. Takao’s jaw dropped. 

“W-Well, you know, he’s a lot more careful about suncream than I am, being he’s… the way he is--”

“Oh, he’s careful about everything,” Kise laughed, “All he does is tell me off for different things, you know?”

“Naww, that’s not true,” Takao waved a hand dismissively, his face contorting itself into an awkward smile, gripping his clipboard. He almost seemed to become aware of being backed against the wall, but not before Kise did, stepping forward until his leg was firmly between Takao’s, his black jeans a perfect stripe between the blue scrubs. 

“Maybe with a little stress relief, he wouldn’t be so stuck up about… people like us. Laid-back.” 

“U-Uh, Kise, that’s, that sure is close--”

“It must be _hard_ , Takao _-cchi_ ,” Kise purred, “Dealing with that attitude every day.”

“It’s not-- I don’t--”

Just then, the sound of the doorknob to Midorima’s office turning had Kise leap away from Takao like he’d never pressed him against the wall, and Midorima emerged in all his grumpiness.

“If you’re going to have a conversation, do it in the reception, in fact…” He trailed off suddenly upon seeing Takao lit up red like a flare and Kise already halfway down the corridor, calling as he waved a sunny goodbye.

“Sorry, Midorimacchi! Thanks for today! See ya when I’m back from my trip!”

The hallway fell silent, save for Takao’s attempt to explain what had happened in hand gestures and stutters. Midorima continued to stare until he heard the sound of the clinic’s doors sweeping shut, then propped the door open, his senior slipping out for his break. After a moment he set his jaw and looked at his husband.

“He said something to you.”

“Y-yeah, Kise, that guy, he sure is…”

Midorima sighed. “I’m sorry. Come in here and tell me everything, Takao.”

***

It was an innocent drop-in over his lunch break in this part of town. That was what Kise told himself, waiting for Akashi to reappear in his lounge, as he sized up the place. It was lucky really! If something happened, then it happened -- he didn’t know what his chances were until he took them.

“Wow, I didn’t know you got so into it, Akashicchi!” Kise marvelled when he heard him step quietly back into the room.

“Yes, I suppose I did get a little carried away ordering the titles on my reading list,” Akashi smiled as Kise checked out the full-to-bursting bookcase in his student lodgings. The place was small - no smaller than any other one-person apartment in this part of Tokyo, anyway - but well fitted. It was Akashi’s very first place to call his very own where not a single family member entered, no maids living on the premises. Of course he had to fill it with belongings to make it feel like it was entirely his own choice.

And here Kise was, in the den of the lion.

By being here it was like-- standing directly under a security camera, in Kuroko’s blind spot. He wouldn’t expect Kise to take a chance here, with Akashi, of all people.

“Did you read them all already?!”

“From the top down to about… hm, about your waist-level. Those at the bottom are my reference books.”

Kise whistled. “Whoa... Sounds like you’re having fun at university.”

“Studying is meant to be work, but you know, Kise -- I think I am enjoying it.” He stood by him and held out a cookbook. “Here. Thank you for lending it to me.”

“Oh, that was fast! Did you try anything out? The homemade caramel pudding recipe is so goooood! I make it on my cheat days if I have all the ingredients already!”

Akashi shook his head. “I don’t think I’m at that level yet. You must understand that I’m still learning to prepare sandwiches. But I look forward to the day you lend it to me again, when my kitchen is better equipped to cook desserts.”

“Ehhh, really,” Kise couldn’t help pondering what that looked like; Akashi was doing his very best to break free of that previous life, being trapped in that household with his every move monitored and judged. He was learning to do those little things that had been ‘taken care of’ for him his entire upbringing, like cleaning up his own spillages and cooking his own breakfast. Maybe a sweets cookbook had been slightly overambitious, but then Akashi had accepted the offer so gracefully when Kise had mentioned it. Really, Kise thought, the captain of a team being the one who learns… That had a certain appeal to it. 

That’s right… He did come here for a reason, after all.

“Was there perhaps something else you lent to me, Kise?” Akashi looked thoughtful, glancing back at his tiny kitchen over his shoulder -- that movement in itself, that faux-forgetfulness a testament to how well he was learning his brand-new people skills -- as Kise had fallen silent.

“Ah, no… I was just thinking, I had another recipe book you could use but it’s probably still with Kasamatsu-senpai… Urgh, come to think of it, there are a few things that’ve gotta be there still…”

“I see. Have you contacted him to ask for them back?”

Kise grimaced slightly then tried to brush it off with a laugh. “Not really, like, I don’t wanna… have to arrange to meet up after all that.”

“Why not? It’s easy enough for you to contact myself, or Kuroko, or anybody you were once close with. You’re very good at messaging. Much swifter at responding than myself.” 

Praise was praise, especially from someone as cool-headed as him, and Kise softened a little. “You’re right… Maybe I just don’t wanna go and see his room, get those old memories again.”

Akashi seemed to pause for thought. “It could be good for closure.”

“Haha, everybody loves to talk about that, don’t they?” Kise laughed, then gasped in horror when he remembered who he was talking to. “I mean-- not that it’s a _bad thing_ , Akashicchi, like, obviously it’s good if you’re trying to resolve things, but for something like this I’m--”

“It’s alright. Everybody’s different, after all. You know that better than most of us do.”

...Just like with Kuroko, with Momoi, even with Murasakibara glaring at him from the passenger seat, Kise felt that little hint of _being seen_. Akashi wouldn’t have been the ace captain he was if he also couldn’t understand how Kise functioned. It was like a sip of a sugary drink, satisfyingly sweet but one that left you with thirst for more.

“Yeah… Well, I guess I’ll have to try it, won’t I? To see if that kind of approach is something that I can do, too.”

“Exactly. You won’t know until you try.”

Kise grinned. As he very casually took his leave, he turned to give a last goodbye before he faced the rest of his day, but instead he wound up lingering on the doormat.

“Did you forget something inside?” Akashi asked after a moment. 

“Ah, no,” Kise shook his head with a sheepish smile, “I was just thinking that talking to you really helped a lot. Like, I think I know how I need to move forward.”

He smiled back simply. “Any time, Kise.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Hm? Of course I do. Give me some fair notice before you drop in, however. To tidy.” 

The lion’s den.

Kise was already stepping back over the threshold and the little extra boost of height that his shoes lent him compared to Akashi’s indoor slippers gave him a strange thrill. From here, he could almost see over Akashi’s head back into his invitingly neat room. In there lay the promise of Akashi’s unwavering trust in him, the trust he tended to show in his team back then, whether that was framed as the absolute possibility of _claiming victory_ or _destroying the enemy_. Both were true. It was all about how he worded it to light that fire in his heart.

“I just feel like… captains are really reliable, after all. That’s why I fell for him.” he sighed, and leant in to close the gap between them until they could sense one anothers’ breaths.

“Your type, hmm?” Akashi didn’t move from his spot despite the overbearing presence. Kise half-nodded, wedging an elbow against the doorframe as he leant in to kiss him, eyes slipping shut.

But what met him was a firm grip on the shoulder with a thumb pressed all too close to his Adam’s apple and he blinked, shocked, back at Akashi’s relaxed face.

“ _I’m afraid we can’t do something like this, Ryouta_ ,” he said very deliberately with wide, pleasant eyes, “I am no longer risking harm by getting involved with these disputes. You understand?”

Kise gulped. Akashi-- this Akashi so, so rarely made his appearance nowadays unless it was to convey a message too blunt for his counterpart to suggest naturally in everyday conversation. Maybe it was a testament to Kise’s approach that this kind of… sledgehammer was required to stop him.

“I-- I understand,” Kise squeaked.

“Well done. Run along.”

“Yes,” is all Kise could manage in soft, high-pitched agreement before _this_ Akashi finally let him go and he toddled his cautious way out of the apartment block. 

He was starting to wonder if Kuroko had a point about how hurt he was going to get by risking himself like this.

But then, he wasn’t a quitter.

***

Kise wasn’t sure why he’d been called by the clinic; it must have had something to do with all those forms he had filled out regarding consent to be practised on by a student, or a student in the room, or whatever it was that Midorima’s senior doctor had attempted to read out to him just before his vaccination. Kise hoped mildly that it would be that something had gone ever-so-slightly wrong and his next job at the airline could be pushed back until he’d had another chance to shoot together with Moriyama and tell him _all the things_. He’d tried phoning back around 4pm, once he’d gotten home from the studio and showered, but the line was busy, so he texted Midorima instead.

In classic Midorima Shintarou style he replied by phoning him back instead of texting. The man was unwilling to mix work issues or long stories in with messaging apps, so he’d just have to deal with it then and there, Kise supposed. Apparently it was to do with the forms after all.

“Ahh, my bad, I’ll go in first thing tomorrow… Oh, when does the clinic close? I can go in tonight-- eh?”

Midorima stated his plans clearly.

“ _Huh_? You’re coming here?!”

Kise panicked on the phone as Midorima hung up, scrambling to his feet in the lounge where he was buried up to his neck in blankets and soft cushions in front of the television. What was he going to do?! He was wearing his staying-at-home glasses and lazing-around loungewear, he didn’t have any makeup on, only his night cream and eye serum -- nobody outside of his sex life had seen him in this state since Teikou’s summer camps, and back then he was only _just_ short-sighted enough that he could make his way around the grounds without glasses, headaches be damned. He attempted to pile some things up on his couches so that they weren’t on the floor, kicking packing-pellets from that cursed delivery of Momoi’s under the coffee-table. If he knew Midorima the way he did, he’d make some comment about his living-space. Halfway through throwing open a window to clear the air from his aroma-diffuser-slash-humidifer (lemon scented) the doorbell rang. Kise stopped a few feet away from the door to fluff up his hair where it lay just flat enough to be mistaken for being greasy, then opened up to his surprise visitor.

“Midorimacchi!” he announced, glancing down the hallway to make sure his neighbours didn’t see him like this. It was already the first time one of his friends saw him wearing functional glasses, not fashion glasses, so at least it was… this one. Midorima, collected and stiff as ever, stood before him in a jacket over his button-up, holding an envelope under his arm.

“Kise. Sorry for the intrusion.”

“ _Now_ you’re sorry?” Kise laughed, letting him in and praying silently that he wouldn’t notice how much junk -- clothes and empty packaging from web orders, mainly -- was crammed behind and underneath furniture. “Well, you’re here now, what’s up?”

“There was a segment of the paperwork missing your initials, in fact. I was hoping you could complete it. It would save the extra chasing-up by the reception staff.”

“Oh, oops! Good thing you noticed, huh? Keen eyes and all,” Kise headed to the open kitchen and opened the fridge, “You want a drink for the trouble of coming here, do you have time? I’ve got… water, juice--”

“I’m fine, thank you,” he stood almost stock-still in the middle of the lounge. He’d kept his shoes on as if he wasn’t sure where to put them, since the place didn’t have a porch.

“Well, suit yourself!” He grabbed a bottle of mineral water if only to have something to fidget with, if they were about to do some paperwork together. Midorima was a strange one, Kise thought -- he really had been worried about him for that week or so, suspecting that he’d been resentful of him all this time. But he should have guessed it was all those other things in his life taking up his attention. It didn’t instantly make things un-awkward, but he was back on his way to normality with him, he thought. “You know, I really could’ve come to the clinic if you’d given me like, half an hour--”

A shadow fell across him and he let the fridge door fall shut as he glanced up, to Midorima standing close to him. So close he could see his eyelashes clearly behind those lenses. The envelope had been left on the coffee-table.

“Midorimacchi?”

Without saying anything Midorima reached a hand out and gently took him by the elbow. Kise didn’t know how to react, so he stayed still, looking down between the band on his ring finger and the serene look on his face, until Midorima dipped in closer -- _he’s taller than I thought_ , Kise noted quickly -- and leaned his forehead to Kise’s. 

Just the touch triggered something in him, some kind of crush, some sudden explosion of temperature, his face eaten up in a blush. 

Midorima forgave him, right? Or was he just messing with him?

No, no way -- Midorima was as serious as serious could be. He’d clearly expressed his desire to be with one person forever, for the rest of his life -- but if that was the case why was he standing in Kise’s kitchen, centimetres from his lips? Kise suddenly felt very small, like receiving his first love letter. There was something so proper about him. Nobody could imagine him doing anything as brutal and messy as cheating or lying.

Which was why this felt particularly dirty.

“Sorry to ruin the moment, but what are you doing?” Kise asked softly, patting his forearm as though to bring one or either of them back to reality.

“What I should have done a while ago.”

There was a slam as the bottle of water dropped from his hand and bounced across the lino flooring, Midorima setting a careful hand at the small of Kise’s back, almost tilting him backwards as though dancing, leaning in to rest his head against his neck. Trepidation, perhaps excitement swept through his system as he thought, _oh, this is how taller guys hug--_

“M-Midorimacchi,” he struggled, but Midorima’s breath was so warm and it tickled just behind his ear, sending a shiver down his back. What was he saying-- that he had regrets before getting married? _Oh my god, Midorimacchi, you should have said something!_ But it wasn’t as though he couldn’t bear some of the burden, not if it was secret. The others didn’t live local enough to drop in unannounced. After a moment of this unbearable, silent tenderness, Kise turned his head to breathe him in, too; the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle fabric softener, a little powderiness from the clinic. “Won’t Takao notice you’re home late?”

“He’s out with friends tonight,” he replied over his shoulder in a hum of a voice.

“Ah,” Kise said.

Midorima left him in silence again but it only seemed to heighten his senses - like his touch was growing more sensitive, making him keenly aware of just how his pulse thrummed against his neck, the length of his fingers rubbing circles on his spine. He wondered if he should be more talkative to counter it, the way he imagined Takao was with his ceaseless chatter, but for once he didn't want to copy him. Right now, Midorima was _all his_. Kise touched his waist experimentally; Midorima made a noise in his throat, a breath that hitched ever so slightly.

Kise burned up hotter. He had no idea the sensitivity was shared.

“Midorimacchi…” he stroked at his back over the smooth fabric of his jacket and Midorima wound his arms around him, and if he wasn’t aware of how deliberate every single little movement this man made was he would think it was clunky, his hands firmly on Kise’s waist, nosing against his neck until Kise shivered from the very anticipation of having it kissed, having it bitten, but even that, then, the very thought of Midorima’s mouth, Midorima’s breath, his hands, his voice-- all of it drove his imagination wild. In front of all his layers and formality he felt naked and attempted somewhat to make it known, slipping his hands up Midorima’s lapels to peel his jacket off him.

“C’mon, let’s match,” he smiled, and although Midorima moved back, he held his gaze as he shrugged it off and set it folded over the back of a kitchen chair. So proper. It was… gentlemanly.

“Is this enough?”

“Not nearly,” Kise couldn’t help himself, struggling to hold back a cheeky grin, keeping his cheeks pinched in the hopes of looking cute rather than-- ready to pounce on him. To his surprise Midorima seemed to blush at the remark before he drew Kise closer again and that, too, was tender-- even though he wouldn’t shake the eye contact, not once.

Was that why he was looking at him all through the appointment? Was this on his mind?

“Hey… was this what you were thinking about earlier? In the clinic?” Kise whispered as Midorima descended on his neck again, still not breaching that taboo barrier of actually kissing him but nuzzling from his ear down to where his neckline began, some way along his shoulder, _lucky me wearing my lounge shirt_. He couldn’t help noticing how… quiet Midorima was. Maybe he was used to chatting with his crushes. He shivered under the touch of his hands drifting up his back, then down, then up again, beneath the fabric.

“Yes.” was the answer, breathed into his ear like he knew what turned him on and Kise’s knees felt weak beneath him, leaning up and into the hold. As if he could sense how it affected him, Midorima sighed softly, his warmth on his ear so delicate and erotic especially coming from him, and held him close as he bent down until the two of them knelt together on the linoleum. He didn’t let up, and soon the softness of his breath turned into nuzzling, into the feeling of his smooth lips across the shell of his ear, across his lobe with the flick of his earring. Kise let his eyes flutter shut as he concentrated on the feeling, only opening them again to gaze at him. Midorima was raising his hands ever so gently, then carefully pinched the ends of Kise’s glasses-frames. Kise blinked again as he lifted them from his face.

“I never knew you wore glasses,” Midorima remarked, folding them and setting them aside on the counter-top.

“That’s because I never told anybody,” he gave a sheepish little shrug, flicking the hair out of his face. “You’re the first to see me like this, Midorimacchi.”

He watched Kise in silence, then cupped his cheek and leaned in.

Almost for a kiss, but not quite, their lips millimetres from one another. And while Kise was transfixed by the tension of it, he suddenly became aware of Midorima’s hand on his knee, stroking up to his hip, thumbing in the hipbone. The span of his hand was enough for him to reach his navel and lower, lower down, the front seam of his stupid colourful loungewear pants, if he’d known this was going to happen he would have worn something nicer--

“M-Midorimacchi,” he said, his tone only a few degrees away from a complaint, but the tension had his skin prickling with sensitivity; he could feel himself getting hard just from the ghost of a touch between his legs, only a few centimetres separating Midorima’s hand from his cock, really; it was driving him crazy to be this close to his friend, to be able to almost taste his mouth, to want to push against his hand and sigh and dip into some fantastic pleasure because he had to be a good lover, he had to, surely-- he knew so much about his teammates, he must know how Kise was built…

“You’re warm,” Midorima said gently, and lowered his other hand to lift Kise’s shirt away from his torso, leaving his chest bared. Kise spread his knees on the ground, unable to resist the touch any longer, but Midorima seemed to withdraw his hand quickly.

“No, come back,” he pleaded, reaching for Midorima’s arm; rather than pulling him back to feeling him up the movement had him lunge over Kise until he rolled back onto the kitchen flooring, stomach exposed. The cold was a shock at first but mostly, it just added to the shivers dancing along his skin when Midorima touched him, grazed over him -- he reached out his hand again, this time stroking it over his chest to his nipple, the feeling of the soft bandages giving him a kick of pleasure. Kise held in a sound, until Midorima did it again; this time he arched unashamedly, let out the gentlest moan, a mess on the ground, canting his hips as though begging for a touch, some kind of attention, something good that only his hands could provide now he’d worked him up like this.

Honestly, it was more intimate than a kiss. He didn’t need a kiss like this.

“Midorimacchi,” Kise exhaled softly.

“What is it?”

“Does-- mm, does your husband know that you’re doing this…?” he purred.

“Yes, he does.”

“Mm-- huh?” Kise didn’t think the answer would be a straight ‘yes’ and blinked at him, head spinning from arousal. He watched as Midorima knelt backwards then stood up, smoothing his shirt down neatly and arranging his tie.

“He told me what you did earlier, in fact. That you tried to seduce him in plain view at his workplace directly outside of the office. I would have turned a blind eye to what you were doing with our teammates, Kise, that isn’t something I intended to get involved with, but that was too far. Whatever attentions the others have given you have been out of pity or some misguided attempt to turn you away from your rebound. Unsuccessfully, it would appear.” 

“I… So, you don’t…” his mind struggled to keep up with the blow he’d been dealt, still hazy with the dreaminess of being reduced to this jelly-legged, trembling state under Midorima’s skilled hands. 

“No, Kise. If I had any interest in you either romantically or sexually don’t you think I ought to have acted upon it before getting engaged?” Midorima frowned, picking up his jacket. “You cannot simply treat other human beings as playthings to experiment with and then cast aside when you are bored. That is not how one should treat their friends. Much less the _husbands_ of their friends.”

“Midorimacchi, wait!” The panic rose in him. Kuroko’s warning was drowned out in the back of his mind by the sound of his blood rushing in his ears.

“Instead of trying others on for size, might I suggest that you keep yourself to yourself until you can behave like an adult. The forms to be signed are here. I’ll be seeing you,” Midorima said and with that, he turned to let himself out of the apartment, pulling the door shut behind him with a click.

That left Kise alone, half-naked on his kitchen floor with a pulsing hard-on and his hair sticking to his forehead. All was still for a few moments as he gathered his thoughts and tried to even out his breathing, when a familiar sound rang across the room -- his ringtone from his phone tossed somewhere into the pillows of his couch. Not that he could hope to find it in this state. He listened to it passively as he pushed himself back up to sitting, pulling his shirt back down to cover his stomach, until it went to voicemail.

 _“Hey-- hey, Kise. It’s me,”_ Kasamatsu’s recorded voice spoke out. Kise listened dully, staring into the blurry distance. _“Sorry I didn’t catch you. This is kinda out of the blue but I found some stuff of yours at my place… Couple of shirts, a CD and things. Figured you might want them back at some point. Um. ...I’ll message you, so we can meet up and you can get it back. Or I’ll put it in the mail it if you don’t want to see me. Okay?”_

“Okay,” Kise repeated quietly to himself, obviously nowhere close enough for it to pick up on the mouthpiece. But he could dream that he had someone to talk to.

_“...Alright. Let me know."_

“Yeah, I’ll think about it and call you back.”

_“Bye."_

He thought of his day's events.

"See you soon."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally AoKi time!!

An apology was in order, that was for sure, but Kise wasn’t about to grovel. The groupchat had gone quiet other than when he reposted memes and cute fox videos, and although he didn’t want to suspect everybody of talking about him behind his back he wouldn’t exactly blame them for it. It wasn’t that he cared what they thought of him -- they were always complaining about what he was up to no matter what and it was friendly affection or something, he liked to think, that allowed them to express themselves so frankly. He just, you know-- didn’t want to stir anything up! Murasakibara had threatened to crush him, after all. For once he found himself actually worrying about what it looked like to be on the receiving end of that.

Instead he tried his best to keep off his phone while he travelled, channeling every ounce of discomfort into exceptional customer service and sparkling smiles as he asked for tray-tables to be folded back up into the upright position in preparation for landing, please! And there was only so much energy he could expend on thinking about personal issues when there was a language barrier at the hotel reception, but he and his coworkers got their minifridges stocked up in the end, and within a day he’d managed to shake off the jetlag, and felt a little more like himself.

Himself. What did that look like now, anyway? What did everybody seem to know about him that he didn’t?

It would have been convenient if that experience with Midorima had shocked him to his senses, the way Kise imagined he intended to, but he knew he wasn’t so forceful that he would try to change Kise’s direction. That was okay, though. There was no ‘snapping out of it’. Who he was now was different from who he was in his long-term relationship with a high-school senpai. There wouldn’t be a way to return to how he was before at this point.

Well… he could try to poke himself in a new direction, maybe. He’d been turned down by just about everybody he’d flirted with after a taster, but one opponent remained: the one that Kise was most deeply, burningly curious about.

In retrospect, he should have gone into it expecting more of a challenge.

“Aominecchi, heeey!” he’d phoned him after the vaguest attempt at maths to work out the difference in timezones between here and Japan, kicked back on his hotel bed.

“Oh, hey.” Aomine’s reply to his sing-song greeting sounded bored. Or preoccupied? It was only morning there, wasn’t it?

“Hey, hey, I wanted to ask if you have a few hours free this week, is now a good time?”

The audio held the shift of fabric like he was tucking the phone against his shoulder. “It ain’t a bad time, but I’m on shift, so… Somethin’ up?”

“Yeah, I was thinking, it’s been ages since we played -- wanna get together? For basketball, I mean!”

There was silence.

“With everyone?” Aomine said, his voice dripping with trepidation.

“No, just me! Really, it’d take months to get everyone to book the time off anyway,” Kise laughed, “One-on-one, like we used to!”

“Sorry, Kise.”

“I-- huh?”

“Gotta go. Talk later.”

...Like that, alone in his hotel room with only the dead dial tone for company, he’d been set back at the first hurdle.

***

But he wasn’t a quitter! So the instant he touched down in Tokyo and cleared border control Kise took a new approach. Turned out Aomine didn’t like being phoned, so he bust open the messaging app again.

_Aominecchi, I’m in Shinjuku all day, come keep me company on my lunch break?! 😣_

He’d agreed to meet him for lunch, casually sitting on the edge of the open trunk of Kise’s car in the studio parking-lot, but the word must have held very different meanings for the two of them since Aomine wrinkled his nose at the shaker-bottle Kise took intermittent sips from.

“Is that all you’re havin’?”

“Oh, don’t worry, it has a full 100% RDA of all the vitamins and minerals. Like, all of them.” 

Aomine looked the sludgy liquid up-and-down. It didn’t look any more nutritional than cement compared to the yakisoba bread he was clutching. “Nah, really?”

“Yeah, oh-- no, tell a lie,” Kise reached behind him into the open trunk and pulled out an iced-coffee cup. “I got my hydration right here, see?”

“Freakin’... liquid diet. You’re not a baby bird.”

“Cheep cheep!” Kise rang out in laughter immediately as Aomine pinched his eyebrows in exhaustion. 

This was the kind of fun interaction he never got when he was with a group of people. Not that it wasn’t lots of fun to be with everybody -- the dynamic was just different. The more people were in the group, the more walls each individual put up, and before he knew it, Kise was trying to climb them, standing on a wall of his own. Whether he’d simply been like this the whole time or this was new, Aomine felt refreshingly honest with him. He mostly stayed quiet or made goofy jokes with the others. 

But he knew what Aomine was like on his own. 

Kise sat cross-legged on the edge of the trunk, scrolling idly on his phone to the sound of Aomine chewing resolutely over their shared lunch break. Adapting his approach to Aomine’s calmness.

“By the way,” Aomine said suddenly through a mouthful of bread, “Sorry ‘bout the other day.”

“Hmm?” Kise responded just before he realised he was talking about that incident, when he’d rejected him so quickly over the phone-- not that he’d forgotten, more than it was an undercurrent to the whole conversation.

“Wasn’t feeling great.”

“Aw, it’s fine!” 

… 

Although, Kise couldn’t remember the last time that Aomine had said something like that so openly.

He rarely ever talked about himself. Things were ‘troublesome’ or ‘boring’ or ‘a pain in the ass’, vocabulary shared with Murasakibara, but he never said ‘I’m tired’ or ‘I don’t wanna’.

“So, like… then do you actually, secretly wanna play basketball sometime?” he tried cheekily, grinning with the Starbucks straw to his lips. Aomine didn’t look up from the bottle he’d wedged between his knees.

“Nothin’ secret about it. I just...”

“Whoooa, you’ve become kinda serious and shy in your adulthood, huh, Aominecchi?” he teased. That was a surefire way to get a rise out of any of the Generation of Miracles with their puffed-up pride, and a reaction was an _engagement_. Attention had to either be given freely to Kise or wrenched out of their hands. “I know it’s been a while since we played but it’ll be fine! Ehh, maybe this will be the first time I’ll win against you? Don’t let your guard down against me, okay?”

He wasn’t expecting an answer straight away, but when he glanced aside to Aomine, he also-- wasn’t expecting to be met with such a sharp glare, something he was more familiar with from an interhigh than his friend on his lunch-break still dressed in his blue uniform, his cap discarded somewhere in the back of the car.

“Why’re you tryin’ to get a rise out of me?” Aomine said.

Such a direct hit left him speechless for a moment, the heat rising in Kise’s face. “I… I… I just thought you were being humble!”

Aomine scoffed and looked away, leaving the two of them in silence again. 

_… Did I just mess up?!_ Kise panicked internally. How was he meant to rewind? He was trying to drag him closer, physically or otherwise, not push him away!

“I guess I just wanted to go have some fun without getting so _talky_ ,” Kise tried again and this time accompanied by the slightest waver in his voice, employing a delicate touch of puppy eyes and the threat of crocodile tears, “Basketball’s perfect for that. Like the old days.”

“Ask your boyfriend,” Aomine grunted, then shut his eyes as the realisation of what he’d accidentally said hit him, breathing deep to bear the brunt of his own guilt. “Sorry-- sorry, Kise. Shit.”

“It’s okay,” he laughed it off gently but Aomine looked at him under his pinched eyebrows.

“How’re things with you?”

“Um? Normal?” Kise tucked a lock of hair behind his ear then realised, technically in his situation, he was anything but normal. Yet something was keeping him from saying anything deeper. That’s right… baggage wasn’t sexy. He was quickly starting to realise that he couldn’t use his breakup as leverage against everybody, not if Akashi and Kuroko were anything to go by. “Like, I’m gonna have a mega-busy summer now because of the holiday season, so I’m just trying to enjoy my time with everyone where I can! Otherwise I’ll just stay in one place and get restless, you know?”

“Busy, huh.” Aomine repeated. “That’s good.”

He nodded even though he wasn’t sure what he necessarily found good about it. But if Aomine didn’t suspect him anymore, that worked out in his favour. 

Kise leant back slightly until he could see the back of Aomine’s head, and tenderly-- ‘accidentally’ -- put his hand over Aomine’s, where he was leaning on it on the base of the trunk. It was just as firm and warm as he remembered it, from passing exercises and group training in Teikou.

“I’m not too busy to see my friends, though.” he said with only a hint of suggestion in his voice. 

As the seconds ticked by with Aomine not reacting at all, even continuing to chew his last bite of bread, Kise felt himself suddenly experience nervousness. A lot of the excitement he’d felt recently was from fun, not from uncertainty. Did Aomine even hear him? Was his hint too subtle for him? Eventually, Aomine screwed up the plastic wrapper in his other hand and turned to look at Kise over his shoulder.

“Or to get on my dick about a game.”

Kise couldn’t help smiling even as Aomine wordlessly withdrew his hand. “Got you interested, huh?”

He let out a sigh. “Wouldn’t be much of a match, you know that.”

“Ehhh, what do you mean?”

But he stood up, dusting himself off and picking up his cap. Kise’s heart jumped in his chest as he thought of all the things he hadn’t yet said, hadn’t yet snared him romantically-- “Gotta go back. Nice car, by the way.”

“Wanna do this again?” Kise said quickly -- then, embarrassed at the way it had tumbled out so urgently, tried to follow it up, only sounding more desperate as he forced himself to slow down. “This job’s got me in the area all week, so! I could really use your company! Getting out for fresh air, you know!”

Aomine looked at him measuredly.

“I’ll buy you an ice-pop,” said Kise.

“You tryin’ to bribe a cop?”

“I mean, is it working?”

Aomine sighed and held out his fist gently. Kise lifted his in response and Aomine gave it the tiniest bump of his knuckles. The smallest gesture of teamwork yet it sent a thrill down his spine, pooling in nostalgia.

“I’ll hold you to it. Same time tomorrow.”

“See you then!” Kise called as he left the parking-lot. Once Aomine’s figure had disappeared he let out a huge breath he didn’t realise he was holding, fanning himself in the midday heat. Or maybe that was just his imagination-- nerves? The natural energy he was attempting to push back when taking on that faux calm attitude around Aomine? He was like a grumpy cat that could be easily put off if you spoke too loudly. He’d felt the need to take a backseat approach.

There was no way he could push Aomine into closeness as quickly as the others. Aomine knew him too well. So… perhaps he just needed to change quickly enough that Aomine couldn’t see through the disguise.

***

“Aominecchi! You’re plain-clothes today?” Kise greeted him as he approached the same spot, his opened-up car in the corner of the parking-lot furthest from the street. He definitely looked dressed-down in his shirt and long shorts in the July heat, but he just frowned tiredly at him and took the ice-pop he held out at arm’s length.

“Get real. I don’t start til 2 on Tuesdays.”

“Eh? So you came here even though you haven’t started?”

“I get it, you prefer the uniform.” he said as he sat down, tossing his gym bag at his feet. 

“I mean, who doesn’t like a man in uniform?” Kise said before he could stop himself, chuckling at his own joke. Aomine returned it with a wry smile, staring out at the packed-up parking lot as he tore open the ice-pop wrapper.

Next to him Kise’s mind buzzed with planning. His next flight was on Friday and he wouldn’t be back in Tokyo until Sunday. The next Maji Burger meetup was the week after. With the weekend ruled out and Aomine unable to make conversation over the phone, that left Kise until Thursday to get what he wanted before it just got awkward, still trying to flirt with the thick-headed Aomine while sat at that table with all their friends. He was better now at managing his strong desire to talk about the fact he and Momoi were sort-of-with-benefits but he wasn’t sure how well he’d fare in that place without a single soul that he hadn’t at least _tried_ to fuck. 

Slowly, he was coming to understand what Kuroko had been warning him against.

Well… everybody had stupid things they did when they were young. He didn’t get too involved in that whole relationship breakdown at Teikou so, uh, now was his chance? Or something. 

Just a little more, he thought, just a little more of being irresponsible and then I’ll change. I’ll be mature like Kasamatsu-senpai wanted.

And then what?

“Still on the baby bird food?” Aomine brought him back to reality with another disparaging sigh, indicating the shaker in Kise’s hand.

“Nobody else calls me ‘baby’.” Kise smirked and set it down beside him. “Even if it’s meant as a joke, like the way you’re saying it.”

Aomine stared at him dumbfoundedly until Kise deeply regretted what he’d said.

“Have you seen a baby bird, though?” he finally replied, “Bald, weird-lookin’ li’l shits.”

“Oh, oh _wow_ , that’s harsh, Aominecchi!” Kise whined. “Forget I ever said anything!”

“Never called you one, did I?” Aomine said and stuck the ice-pop in his mouth. Next to him, the hand he was leaning on was just outstretched enough that the tips of his fingers bumped Kise’s hand.

...Huh?

_Huh?!_

“Hey… Aominecchi.”

“What?”

“Are you sure you don’t have time for a game soon? Like, I’m free on Thursday night, we could find a court with a streetlight…”

“Again?” Aomine sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Geez, you really… I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a match.”

“And I said, I don’t know what you mean by that!” Kise pouted.

Aomine shrugged. “Don’t mean anythin’ by it. Why’s it gotta be this week?”

“Because I’m just itching for it,” Kise said coolly, “And the weather’s good.” _And it’s the best way to get close to you, right? It’s the thing you love the most in the world…_

Aomine ate the rest of the ice in a few bites, then shook off the last remaining drops of melted syrup from the stick before he examined it. It wasn’t a winning popsicle stick. “Alright.”

“Ah, so it’s a date?”

“No, just. I think I’ll have to find some reasons too.”

Kise rolled that thought around like a candy on his tongue, trying to sense the layers in what he was saying. “So… ‘just for fun’ isn’t enough of a reason?”

“Drop it, Kise. Plenty of other things you can do for fun.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Kise’s purr of a tone, which he thought was quite heavy-handed if it really came down to it, was completely lost on Aomine who just sighed like a smoker going through the actions of his habit without a cigarette. 

“I dunno what, but you’re always so busy. I’m sure you got an idea.”

***

Wednesday came, along with a sense of urgency.

“Don’t you have coworkers to have lunch with?” Aomine commented over his protein shake. Same as me, Kise thought cheerily. 

“I’d rather spend it with you, Aominecchi!”

When Aomine looked at him, for the first time in a few days Kise couldn’t really read his expression, suspended halfway between confusion and genuine curiosity.

“Damn, your coworkers must suck.”

“Or maybe I like your company,” Kise replied, quick as a flash, and leaned in closer to try to bridge the gap between him and Aomine where they perched. Aomine glanced down at his thigh suddenly touching Aomine’s, his light cotton to his suit trousers, then up to Kise’s face much, much closer than it had been moments prior. Kise gazed at him, tried to take in the barest minimum of details from his expression than he needed to go ahead, before closing his eyes and dipping closer.

“No kidding,” Aomine murmured, and gently pushed Kise away with a hand on his shoulder. It took him a second to process why he was being repelled, and another to run through a thousand different ways to react to this.

“You really are shy,” he went with teasing in the end, wearing a small smile as he looked away to hide his disappointment.

“I’m just lookin’ out for you.” Aomine replied gruffly.

“Ehh, how so, Mr. Policeman?” Kise set his chin in his hand, suddenly interested again. He wondered for a moment if he meant protecting from himself, or something in that vein.

He frowned. “Because of what happened with your… captain. Not good for you to rebound so quick.”

“Huh? Oh-- no, don’t misunderstand! This has nothing to do with that…”

“You sure?” Aomine was watching him intensely now.

“Yeah, I promise! I’m just… curious, you know…”

“About what?” he narrowed his eyes.

“About… you, Aominecchi. I feel like I missed out on a lot while I was looking the other way…” It hit Kise that he never had to work this hard with any of the others just for a fling. Just a little twist and poke in the right direction and even _Murasakibara_ had kissed the living daylights out of him. “It’s kinda rare that we meet up alone, anyway, when we used to do it all the time!”

“Yeah, we didn’t have full-time jobs back then.”

“Aominecchi, geez.”

“It ain’t the only thing that changed.”

Kise sighed. It felt like every time Aomine said something blisteringly true, it took away his ability to maintain his facade. But it just meant he had to contort himself into more shapes to adapt to what he said.

“I really just want us to get closer again, Aominecchi, honestly,” he lied, “But if you don’t want to because of… the way I behaved, after breaking up with him--”

“Nah-- no, I didn’t…” Aomine rubbed a hand down his face. “Doesn’t matter to _me_ what your love life’s like. I just know you’re reckless.”

Kise was silent for a second, long enough for Aomine to gently bump the tip of his shoe against his ankle-- the ankle he’d injured during all those high school tournaments.

“It’s fine now, if that’s why you won’t play me,” Kise frowned eventually, hoping that the expression looked cute. Or something. To salvage his hard work so far. He felt almost tired from the mental cartwheels he was having to do just to keep him from seeing through him. Aomine sighed.

“Like I said…” then, thinking better of arguing, he stood up abruptly. “I gotta run. See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow-”

“Or you can hang with your coworkers.”

“I’ll be here!” Kise babbled quickly. Instantly, pink-cheeked, he realised he’d been played, Aomine throwing him an amused smirk over his shoulder before he left the parking-lot. 

The trouble was that he knew him… almost too well. 

Too bad that worked both ways.

***

“Aominecchi! Happy Friday Eve!”

“That’s the dumbest name I’ve ever heard for Thursday.” Today Aomine was in his pre-shift clothes again, a loose shirt and shorts to make him look like the least noticeable person in the world, he assumed, because Kise got his incognito wardrobe from the same retailer. Cute coincidence. Kise patted the spot next to him on the edge of the trunk.

“Haha! I mean, you’re probably right, it’s technically my Friday after all!”

“Oh yeah? It’s my Thursday.”

“But that’s just Thurs--” Kise frowned, caught out as Aomine hid a snuffle of a laugh in his hand. “Ooooh, you bite back now?”

“You love it,” Aomine smirked into his can of coffee. It struck Kise’s heart like an arrow before he even realised he’d had his guard down, and he scrambled to dispel any kind of shyness from himself before he crossed his legs and leaned back in the trunk. This was his last day to try to snare him before he’d have to take a break, and by that time, Aomine would probably realise he was trying so bad to sleep with him, even as thick-headed as he could be sometimes. 

“So how come you’re not here tomorrow?” Aomine asked.

“My other job,” Kise rolled his eyes, “Like, you know, if I’m not here then I’m there… Weekend trip.”

“Far out?”

“Far enough that we have a day to recover before the inbound flight.”

“A whole day in bed on paid time? Sounds like heaven.”

Kise scoffed. “It’s boring, honestly, ‘cause I’m just there on my own and you guys are all terrible at replying to messages! Like, don’t worry about waking me up, just reply! Doesn’t matter what the timezone is!”

“Doubt anyone’s thinking that hard,” Aomine said, staring out at the parking-lot. Idly Kise wondered if they’d been spotted by any local residents yet, the two of them together, even though it mostly only faced onto an industrial park. Some excuse like ‘not wanting to be seen’ wouldn’t have been Aomine’s reason for not kissing him the other day.

“That’s so mean… Oh well, I’ll just get my fix before we take off, I guess. You won’t be busy, right? You’ll help me kick the groupchat back into action?”

“Hey, why’d you just assume I ain’t busy in the mornings?”

Kise raised an eyebrow. “Well, are you?”

“Sometimes,” He grumbled, and Kise felt a tiny thrill at turning the tables on him.

“What’s that daily jog thing Midorimacchi mentioned? You go out running or something, Aominecchi? You know the gym’s good for that, too--”

“Yeah, yeah. If he asks just tell’m I go every day.”

“Only if you tell him I eat food at lunch.”

“Deal.” They grinned at one another, and in a dick move that made Kise feel sick for a moment his brain recalled a similar moment with Haizaki not too long ago. He tried his best to school his face back to calm in case Aomine could read in big bright letters across his face, I’M FUCKING HAIZAKI. Luckily he seemed to be completely oblivious, taking slow sips of his coffee.

“If you’re in Shinjuku for work again let me know.” Aomine said gently, gazing out at the tarmac. “This ain’t bad.”

“Pffft, why can’t you just say it’s been _nice_?"

“You sound like Satsuki.”

“Then, ‘I enjoyed it’ works too! At least, that’s the way I feel!”

Aomine snorted and struggled to go back to his drink, chuckling under his breath, like he was joking. Kise’s heart sank. He wondered if this was where he had to accept defeat, if only a temporary defeat. Why was it that Aomine could deflect him so easily? Was it really because they were too similar? Kise wondered what Aomine was guarding so preciously that he couldn’t let him get one over him. 

Maybe he thought of it as a match, not as seduction. Kise inched closer still; he tried that old tactic again, slipping his hand over Aomine's knuckles.

"You know, I get out at six tonight if you don't want this to end..."

"Told you, 'm workin'."

He held his breath, stuck at the same familiar impasse. Kise didn't want to look _desperate_.

Not in front of Aomine, anyway.

"Hey, what do I have to do for you to hang out with me outside of work?" he pouted.

Aomine shot him a crossly tired look. "What? You wanna?"

"Well-- yeah! Isn't it obvious?"

Aomine stared at him, then down at their hands, before lifting his away to rub at the back of his neck awkwardly, it seemed. "You coulda just said, Kise."

He couldn't help laughing. 'Just said' it? Where was the fun in that? He already turned him down for basketball multiple times, the one thing he knew Aomine couldn't resist, so what were his odds for something like a one-night-stand or some friends-with-benefits deal? He didn't know where he stood in Aomine's ranking for that kind of thing; all he had was Kuroko's word to go off of, that he liked men, too. Being turned down wasn't something he was prepared to accept.

"Well then, I guess it's out now. Let's see more of each other, Aominecchi. It's been ages since we hung out!"

But even his chirpy tone didn’t seem to melt that ice, because Aomine didn’t look back at him for a few more silent seconds.

“You mean it?” he said gently.

“Yeah!”

From his reaction, hunched over and looking down at the bottle he’d bought at the convenience store in his hands, Kise wondered if he should have thought about it harder before replying. Aomine didn’t say much. His silence usually betrayed thinking. 

He really, really hoped Aomine was thinking about what he’d said and not any ulterior motives he might have accidentally been betraying. But if this was the route he’d have to take for Aomine to let him in…

“When you get back from your trip, then.”

Kise’s heart leapt. “Sure! But if you change your mind about tonight, just--”

“It’s just basketball you want, right? We can do that any time of the week.”

He froze. Then he thawed out just as quickly. Aomine’s intuition was still so sharp. “Fine, fiiiine, next week then.”

“Heh. We’ll see.”

They shared a small smile. It was a tiny victory, but a step towards what he wanted nonetheless.

  
  


***

Driving home after work was always equally tedious and euphoric for Kise, both because he was _soooooo_ so so close to being able to collapse in his bed at home and because it was still at least an hour’s drive from Narita International Airport when the traffic was good. In his early days as cabin crew he’d splashed out on a hotel near the terminal after a nighttime-arrival flight. But lately, he hadn’t felt like sleeping anywhere other than his nice cosy apartment. Plus being woken up five times a night by planes taking off wasn’t exactly helpful to his beauty routine.

Something in the vehicle didn’t feel right with only a few kilometres left between Kise and bedtime. He tried to slow slightly down the road, but mere moments later a horrible chugging, whirring sound came from the engine with a vibration that he could feel through the pedal. It probably would have freaked him out more any other time, but honestly the last thing he wanted to deal with after the fifteen-hour flight was another noisy vehicle. Kise thought wearily about the passenger who freaked out when they felt the clunky reverberations of the landing-gear extending from the plane, and sighed. He slowed to a gentle stop by the side of the road, weirdly busy at this time of night, and tried phoning the breakdown line -- not that he’d ever had to use it before -- and the hold music was so gritty-grainy and headache-inducing with terrible sound quality that he hung up not thirty seconds into it. Two more unsuccessful attempts to start the car later, he found himself losing his grip on his motivation. Even the car radio didn’t seem to work despite just about everything possible having been charged and topped up before he’d left for the airport.

“I’m too jetlagged for this,” he sighed to himself, googling where he was exactly so he could at least try to figure out a route home from here. As if he was going to sleep in the car. And even if he got a cab home, trying to recall where the car still was later… It would be as good as gone in the morning. 

After a moment of staring at the map on his phone screen he realised why it looked weirdly familiar. This was Aomine’s neighbourhood.

Exhausted, he phoned him, not expecting him to pick up. But he did. You really do come through in a pinch, Kise thought.

“Kise? Thought you weren’t back til tomorrow.”

“Hey-- uh, I mean, it’s _technically_ tomorrow,” he glanced at his watch, barely a few minutes past midnight, “Listen, Aominecchi, this is super out of nowhere but can you come lend me a hand?”

“... Kise, if this is a booty call--”

Kise snapped, more aggravated than horny for the first time in weeks. “No! No, oh my god, for once, it’s serious!”

Once he’d explained the situation Aomine ran down to the road, appearing in those casual joggers like he’d pulled on the closest sportswear to hand, and helped him to push the car into a residential side-road where it would be safe until the morning. No wonder it was so busy all around them -- Shinjuku never really slept, Kise remarked.

“Why’d you think--” Aomine grunted between heaves of the vehicle, “--I work here?”

“Good pay?”

“I don’t die of boredom,” he’d sighed, and Kise had left it at that.

“My second favour to ask--”

“Oh, great, there’s more,” Aomine said sarcastically under his breath, but for his own sanity and Aomine’s safety Kise chose to ignore it.

“I really, really, really, _really_ need to sleep. Like, or I’ll die.”

After a moment of judging him by his exterior, still so polished but Kise’s usual peppy tone completely nonexistent since about 11pm, Aomine sighed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his joggers. Kise hoped he’d make a decision quickly; he was fairly sure he’d never been seen outside a building with such distinct eyebags and he wanted to keep it that way. He had images of himself passing out in a taxi on the final stretch home or accidentally ending up on the train that just did an endless loop around the city.

“Yeah, fine. My flatmate’s asleep, anyway.”

He turned and Kise already had his suitcase out from the car. “Just show me a floor to sleep on and I’ll take it.”

Ten minutes of near-silent walking later, Aomine unlocked the door to his apartment within the building complex and flicked the light on. Kise recoiled.

“C’mon, princess, it’s not that bad.”

“Ugh, it's just bright.”

He hardly saw anything through his throbbing headache as he followed Aomine, wheeling his tiny carry-on suitcase, into a room where the floor gave way to a small rug, a bedframe and a cushy-looking mattress plus seemingly too much furniture crammed into one room, but the bed was the most important thing.

“Bathroom’s the one on the right when you come outta here. Front door locks on its own so if you gotta leave before I get back or he wakes up you can just pull it shut.”

Kise nodded idly, the words passing in and out of his brain with a whoosh. "I forgot to ask why you’re awake, Aominecchi… were you even sleeping?”

“Funny you ask. I got work in thirty minutes.”

That explained a lot, Kise thought, from the scent of instant coffee on him and the surprising cleanliness of his face, like he’d washed it literally moments prior. He’d never really considered what police shifts were like, but then, Aomine never talked about himself. “Sorry about this.”

Aomine frowned and cracked his neck idly. “Don’t mind. Just turn off the light, yeah? He only got back at ten and nobody likes to see _that_ face in the middle of the night.”

His flatmate sounded like more of a cryptid than a person, but Kise wasn’t about to argue, every word that Aomine spoke pulling more energy out of him as he slipped closer to falling asleep. 

“G’night.”

Aomine flushed. “Don’t get any ideas.” 

Those were his parting-words as he hurried out, leaving Kise to expend the last shreds of his energy to strip in the bathroom and brush his teeth before collapsing face-down on the bed. July was hot -- he didn’t even need a cover, only a soft surface and a gulp of tap water.

***

He woke up with a jolt at 5am. He wasn’t sure why, because he didn’t have any alarms set, but the fact remained that Kise was wide-eyed awake hours before the end of his usual 8-hour sleep cycle, and he briefly couldn’t remember where he was. The ceiling wasn’t familiar and the curtains next to the bed were parted just enough that bright Tokyo city lights could filter through. That could well have been the source of disturbance to wake him up, he thought, considering his room was high up enough off the ground to avoid light pollution and his blackout curtains were much more effective.

Wait. This wasn’t his apartment. 

He mentally tried to scroll back through what he could remember.

Aomine...

Right, he was in Aomine’s apartment and he’d never been here before.

…

Kise sat bolt upright, in only a clean pair of pants and a t-shirt, feeling more lucid than he’d ever felt off the court, then glanced around like he was being hunted. In the semi-darkness and the fuzziness of his vision he could make out some of the decoration of the room -- a pin-up poster by the bed, some overstuffed shelves with magazines and video-game cases. Some clothing hung on the back of the door. On the floor a black hoodie was strewn over the short-pile rug. 

Fierce with curiosity, Kise rooted around in a pile of paperwork on a shelf until he found a name for the owner of the bedroom.

“Aominecchi,” he whispered, sitting back down on the bed in shock. Then he lay down to space out a little, picking the hoodie up off the floor for a blanket even though he could easily have slipped himself under the bedsheets if he was cold.

He was in Aomine’s room.

So… he was in Aomine’s bed but without Aomine?! He wanted to laugh and congratulate himself on the world’s worst success at trying to sleep with somebody. What a loophole! This wasn’t the way he wanted to know what it looked like, how he lived. He’d seen slivers of the others’ lives, homes, workplaces, but he still had seen so little of Aomine’s himself, and now here he was, within the very home but without the reason for his being there. Plus he was fairly sure he himself looked like shit after such a long day, he didn’t remember having done any more than remove his makeup and take out his contacts -- not that there were any mirrors to be found in Aomine's room to check.

“Oh well.” he sighed to himself.

He rolled over onto his side, stroking the hoodie in his arms as though for comfort, like a cat. A black version of Minmin. He didn’t imagine Aomine had a pet. A marimo ball, maybe. The thoughts were coming to him faster as his brain caught up with the events, his body clearly ready to have a whole day filled with activities. The joy of jetlag.

After a moment he realised that there was something else extremely distinctive about the room that kept him so, so sharply awake. He pressed his face into the sweatshirt's thick fabric and breathed.

_Aominecchi’s smell…_

No doubt, that was his scent on his clothes that he picked up ever so faintly when he’d sat shoulder-to-shoulder with him at lunch, the scent you’d get if you were tucked in the back of a taxi with him. The kind of thing a cologne company might want to call a ‘masculine fragrance’, maybe -- he didn’t know much about perfume, although his agent assured him that kind of marketing was his next career move. Fabric softener. Sports deodorant. Shaving cream. Clean sweat from working out. Things that could belong to any man but a cocktail that made up his unique scent.

...He wasn't sure what possessed him to try it on, but Kise wasn't questioning how extremely agile his movements were before his brain caught up with what his body was doing as he threw off his t-shirt and carefully pulled the hooded sweatshirt on instead. The inside was soft and fleecy -- no wonder he'd tossed it on the floor, it would be too hot to wear in July. 

Would Aomine wear it with the hood up? Kise held the edges of the hood while he considered it, then pulled it up and tucked it up around his hair despite coming to the conclusion that he probably wouldn't. This way it felt like a full-body hug. He lay back down on the bed, resting his hands on his stomach over the front pocket.

"...What am I doing?" he murmured, his voice sounding far rougher when he spoke out loud than he actually felt, probably a leftover from all the chatting he'd done to reassure that particularly fearful passenger, plus that one flirty co-pilot who wouldn’t stop asking him about himself whenever he asked for service. I could do your job better than you, he’d thought dully; at least I keep my eyes on the road.

That was the thing. Wanting something to be done, wanting it done right, needing the right person to do it. He’d struggled all week to get even a little reciprocation from Aomine, not even receiving a squeeze of his hand or a shared look; he’d even pushed him away, hadn’t he? So, Kise thought, his approach was failing so far. The subtle or not-so-subtle flirtations. From the way everybody else behaved when he started speaking in those low tones he would have thought it was clear as day when he was trying to seduce somebody. There was no way Aomine could be so oblivious, if he knew him so well...

Wearing Aomine’s hoodie, surrounded by his smell and the fabric that had surely touched his chest the way the fleece rested on his bared torso beneath it, a thought occurred to him.

_The only one who can beat me is me._

What he wanted really had to come from Aomine, but if he couldn’t drag him into his game...

Slowly the pieces fell into place.

“If Aominecchi won’t touch me…” he breathed, “What if… the one touching me is--”

He couldn’t copy what he hadn’t seen, but he could twist the little he’d spotted while observing him into a form using his imagination, using his intuition. He knew what Aomine was like. Even if he didn’t know what he was like in this situation, what was to stop him from making a well-educated guess?

He started by stretching his arms up so the cuffs of the sweatshirt came down to his wrists, since after all, Aomine’s arms were just that little longer than his own if his ability to block him was anything to go by. Concentrating on that image of Aomine reaching, the detail of how his hands moved, what he knew of his tastes, Kise closed his eyes and ran his hands over his stomach, over his torso, over his chest through the fabric of the hoodie. Aomine liked boobs, so he’d probably go for something like this, he thought. 

Kise never touched himself like this, not on his own, so the effect was stronger than he expected, arching into his own palm as it ran over his chest, his nipple. Aomine’s voice echoed in his head: _You like that, Kise?_

He made a soft sound in reply, stroking his thumb over and over the spot until he could feel it hardening through the fleece as he shivered. Was Aomine soft here but rough elsewhere? He grabbed his pectoral experimentally and found himself surprisingly shy under the feeling of his palm, his fingers grabbing as though to find something of more substance. _You don’t have tits, but you’ll do, Kise_ , he thought to himself, composing Aomine’s voice like music.

“I’ll do, huh,” he whispered, grabbing himself again, thumbing his nipple more roughly until he couldn’t stop himself curling his toes on the bedsheets. It was a strangely intimate sensation; nobody else was this rough with him, not here on his body. Did everybody else treat him like some kind of china doll?

That was the amazing thing about Aomine, he thought, slipping one hand underneath the hoodie and kidding himself that his fingertips were more solid, rougher, his palm dry from constant basketball practice; he didn’t treat Kise delicately. He knew he was made of stronger stuff despite how the outside looked. That’s why he’d wrung himself out trying to beat him. He never went easy on him--

“Mmm, too fast,” he protested weakly to himself in the semi-darkness, breath hitching, as he grabbed the waistband of his boxer shorts, letting go only to slip his palm up between his thighs. In his head Aomine was just as fierce as on the court. _Screw going slow_ , he heard, _I’m not gonna patronise you._

That’s right, he thought, he had to match Aomine’s pace or he’d just lose his motivation…

Slipping his other hand beneath the hoodie to run his fingertips up and down his stomach, he switched to sliding his palm over and over his crotch instead, but why was Aomine checking, “You know I’m already--” Kise whispered.

_Already what?_

“You know.” he half-moaned, arching into his own hand.

_Say it for me. I wanna know what kind of effect I have on you, Kise…_

The way he dragged out that last vowel of his name, did Aomine think he never picked up on it? He let out a breath, a soft sound muffled in the pillow, the pillow that smelled like Aomine as he stroked harder, faster. He could feel himself thickening, his temperature climbing until the room felt stifling.

“Please, not like this…”

_What, you mean you don’t wanna cum? I’m good enough like this, aren’t I?_

“Touch me,” Kise breathed. Every shift of the hoodie fabric against his bare stomach, his bared hips, only made the image stronger in his mind, Aomine in his comfy sports clothing, Kise spread begging on his bed for the feeling of touch on his skin.

_You’re gonna have to ask for it, Kise, do it right._

“I want to feel you… on me…”

He hoped that was good enough; not that he had a problem saying dirty things out loud, but in front of Aomine, even the Aomine in his mind, he felt like what he was saying was suddenly _honest_ and not just lines he was repeating flatly from crappy adult videos. Arching on the bed, he let his hand inch its way under his waistband until he was bucking into his own palm, hard and aching for that contact; his imagination was strong enough that the feel of his hand was alien to him, rough and hot and strong, so strong. Aomine’s hand.

“Mmm, Aominecchi, _please_ \--”

Just then amongst the sound of fabric shifting against his ear as he turned into the pillow, he heard something drop and clatter next to him. Kise froze instantly and stared across at the source of the sound in terror, snapped out of his fantasy, to see his fantasy standing right in front of him.

The dawn hardly illuminated the room and he’d never hallucinated in his life before, not even after a twenty-four-hour flight, but that was definitely _Aomine himself_ standing on the rug in his uniform and a jacket, his bottle of water rolling back towards the door where he’d dropped it. And the look he had on his face was-- almost unreadable.

“A-Aominecchi,” he said, voice wavering. How was he meant to explain this? His hand down his pants, wearing his hoodie, and _how much had he heard?_ Shit, he was only supposed to be sleeping here. _Don’t get any ideas_ was the last thing he’d said to him and here he was, calling out his name. His fantasy version of Aomine was quickly disappearing along with the sweet satisfaction he’d been feeling up until that moment. He’d get kicked out and--

Suddenly Aomine threw off his jacket and climbed onto the bed, over Kise like a beast pouncing. Kise couldn’t help gasping and almost attempting to wriggle away anxious for whatever he was going to do until Aomine propped himself over him, filling his vision and pushed his knee between Kise’s thighs. He gasped.

“Aominecchi, what’re you--”

“Be quiet,” he growled, staring down at the hoodie he was wearing and putting a hand on his bared thigh and god, it was just as rough and firm as Kise had imagined. They both seemed to be holding their breath until finally he descended and started to palm Kise through his boxers, the way he’d started himself with the Aomine of his imagination. It felt like déja vu, but a hundred times better, for the way that he didn’t have to be in control and could simply curl into the sensation of the pressure, his hand, already straining at the front of his pants.

“I’m already--”

“I _said_ , quiet down,” Aomine hissed, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his suit trousers in a flash, and he hardly paused to kneel down further to fetch something from under the bed-- in the brief moment where Kise wasn’t actively being touched he stared at Aomine over the hoodie. Aomine met his eyes, then broke away to bite the soft skin of his hip. Kise made a sound of protest, instantly stifling it when Aomine stared at him again, looking down at him as he coated his fingers in lube. 

So, he wasn’t against it really, Kise thought, his whole body strung up with tension like some kind of puppet as Aomine yanked his pants down his thighs and quickly started to touch him, grabbed his thigh to spread his legs apart, slipped a finger into his ass, worked him carefully but with an air of impatience. Kise struggled to relax, already so aroused but the fact that Aomine had picked up where he’d left off, inside him, his fingers longer than Kise’s own… That part, he couldn’t quite imagine himself. Not just yet. He couldn’t help staring to drink it all in. Aomine glanced up and away just as quickly like he was embarrassed. 

“You’re really--” he began, making Kise pause in hesitation, then shook his head and slipped in another finger before pulling out. Kise heard rather than saw him put on the condom, his head spinning, his vision already giving up in favour of _feeling_. Like they didn’t need to speak. Like they could communicate like this, their bodies aching for one another. Aomine was already hard, that much he could feel from the sensation of his cock nudging against his inner thigh, the head throbbing against him, against, inside--

“Fuck,” Aomine whispered as he pushed inside him slowly for how tight he was, his head hanging over Kise’s chest like he’d been defeated, but Kise couldn’t help bucking his hips for more, for _more_ , he was ready; _don’t treat me like I’m fragile_ , didn’t Aomine see that? Didn’t he know he’d been waiting for this all week? That this wasn’t the first time he’d considered what it was like to have Aomine fuck him? Over him Aomine shuddered, then grabbed his hips and-- for anything that they could have said, there was no replacing _motion_ , and he thrust, and he didn’t stop.

“Aominecchi,” Kise gasped, reaching to touch him and finding the coarse material of his dress shirt just beneath his hairline, the sweat rolling down his neck just adding to the heat he felt. His own cock was already leaking onto his stomach with every snap of his hips, each push taking him deeper, feeling better than the last, until Kise couldn’t help tightening and curling his hips up, wrenching a shuddering breath out of Aomine over him. 

“Fuck,” he kept whispering like a secret, his arms buckling at the elbow with the way that Kise started bucking against him, and it was no time at all until he was fucking him urgently into the mattress and pushed into him once, twice, and came, hard. It only took Kise a few strokes of his own hand between their stomachs for him to climax lazily, the heat spilling across his midriff and beneath the fabric of the hoodie already damp with sweat. Aomine shivered and panted where he was propped over him, eyes shut, before he withdrew slowly, sitting back on his haunches carefully like he had vertigo. Kise caught his breath in a daze, every part of his body tingling, on fire.

“Aominecchi, you--”

The door creaked, and through the gap Kise could only see a face, a black-haired guy standing in the doorway. 

“Y’all mind keepin’ it down?” he spoke. Crispily, like he’d been woken up. His voice was horribly familiar and Kise guessed who he was just from Aomine’s reaction, sitting straight up like he’d been electrocuted despite having his dick out.

“Sorry, man.”

His flatmate said nothing and wandered away. Moments later they could hear the bathroom tap going, then the gentle click of the other bedroom door as it shut. Once they were sure that the beast had left to slumber again both Aomine and Kise let out huge, silent sighs of relief.

“How much do you think he saw?” Kise murmured as Aomine passed him the box of tissues.

“Dunno. Didn’t have his glasses on.” Aomine replied like it was the most normal thing in the world before rubbing his forehead, quickly switching hands when he realised he’d smeared lube on his face.

“What were…” Kise started asking before his brain kicked in to tell him this wasn’t nice pillow talk, “Why did you come back…?”

“Was stationed close enough I could come back for my break. Thought I’d check on you.” he grunted, staring out the window where the sun was rising, casting a balmy blue and yellow across the Tokyo skyline.

“Aominecchi…”

He sighed and stood once he’d cleaned himself up. “Are you-- gonna be okay if I go?”

Kise smiled weakly, trying to smooth down his hair from where it had gotten ruffled in all the action. “I mean… what will you do if I say ‘no’?”

Aomine looked pained for a moment and Kise’s heart sunk as he realised that he genuinely felt bad for having to leave, that he had assumed that Kise would be absolutely fine on his own. 

Which, he would be, of course, but.

Ah… so this was the sensitive Aomine that Kuroko had been with.

“Sorry.” was all he said eventually.

“It’s fine,” Kise shrugged, maintaining his lazy smile to convince him not to worry, but Aomine leaned forward and ruffled his hair again to his mild protest. Kise thought it was to aggravate him but the look on his face was almost fond.

“Hope today’s better for you.” he said over his shoulder and quietly left, closing the door behind him.

***

Kise crawled out of bed after another hour or so to compose himself, mostly staring up at the ceiling to think about what exactly had happened, before he found his way into the bathroom to clean himself up. It was ridiculously lucky that he’d had his suitcase with him and that he always packed extra pairs of everything just in case there were flight delays. Unable to concentrate on anything in Aomine’s cluttered bedroom he sat on the couch in the shared lounge with a notepad and pen to figure out the details before he phoned his car insurance. He squinted at his phone screen and the driver’s licence he kept tucked inside the case to take down the details.

“Well, good mornin’, there.” spoke a voice by his ear and Kise yelped, whirling around to see the flatmate himself inches from the sofa, who just backed off, smiling. Or maybe grinning? He couldn’t tell. He’d left his glasses in the bedroom and the contacts were resting in their case. He felt weirdly naked, even more so than when Aomine had been fucking him like an animal only hours prior.

“Imayoshi,” he breathed.

He gave him a flash of a smile, quick enough that Kise caught the white of his teeth, before he moved into the open-plan kitchen and punched a button on the coffee-maker. “It’s been a while, eh? What brings ya to sunny Shinjuku?”

Figuring he couldn’t lie to him, Kise recounted the conundrum of the night before, careful not to mention how long he’d been awake and why. Imayoshi made thoughtful noises until the coffee-maker glugged to a halt and he reappeared, perching on the end of the sofa with his mug.

“Terrible luck. What’re the chances, eh?”

“I have to pass through here to get home anyway, so,” Kise sighed, frowning as he wrote down a few more numbers.

“Then it’s a lucky coincidence.” He flicked the TV on, the weather report gesturing with the programme set to probably the lowest volume imaginable. Kise looked at it idly before going back to his phone. “Don’t strain your eyes, kid.”

“Huh?” Kise glanced at him.

Imayoshi sipped. It was a looong sip of coffee. “I’m the same in the mornin’. Tryin’a do things before I got specs on.”

Kise’s breath caught in his throat. There was no way he could tell he was struggling to see without a headache just by looking at him. Could he? He’d fooled even Midorima… but then, Midorima didn’t pay attention to Kise particularly. He’d never really bothered to learn about anybody in Touou’s team other than Aomine himself but he’d heard some things in passing from Kasamatsu, very different things from when they were opponents to when they were teammates in Strky, and they were never necessarily _nice_ things.

“Hahaha, what?” he laughed, going back to his policy documents.

“Oh, say, I’m sorry to hear about you and Kasamatsu. Y’all seemed like a good team. A real shame.”

“Ehhh, apparently it was a long time coming, don’t feel too bad,” Kise said before he could gloss over his words with at least a veneer of niceness, mentally cursing himself. Either Aomine or Imayoshi had lowered his guard and he was becoming horribly inept at carrying around his facade. 

“Really? That’s kinda worse, y’know. Leaves you with that feelin’ you coulda done somethin’.”

“Ooh, you’re telling me, haha,” Kise played it off with a giggle. The numbers in front of him were swimming. He phoned quickly before he could procrastinate any longer.

“Got it fixed?” Imayoshi asked once he'd completed the call, toting his cup even though it was empty and the news was showing some terrible landslide in the north of the country.

“Something like that,” Kise sighed, and dragged himself to his feet to get ready to leave and finally get the car worked out.

“Ya know,” Imayoshi said, his back turned to him, “It’s been a while since I spoke to Kasamatsu, honest. Feel like we got an awful lotta catchin’-up to do. So rare we actually talk ‘bout what’s happenin’ in our lives.”

Kise stood still on his way out of the lounge.

“But, I figure Aomine’s business ain’t none of my business, eh? Even if we _are_ flatmates.”

His eyes widened. Imayoshi couldn’t really be blackmailing him, could he? 

He didn't care what others thought of him, Kise had told himself -- _except for Kasamatsu_ , he realised suddenly. If he heard what Kise was doing… The rest of his friends just acted annoyed with him, but Kasamatsu would be sad. And that didn't sit well with him. The feeling of anxiety burned in his stomach like a shot of vodka.

"Aww, cut me some slack," Kise tried turning to offer a winning smile, but the aloof look fixed on Imayoshi’s face told him he wasn't going to charm his way out of this one. He changed approach. “But… I am really sorry for waking you up.” 

“Apology accepted,” Imayoshi smiled, not that he could see it, but he _heard_ it. “Wouldn’t wanna be ticketed by a sleep-deficient cop for parkin’ overnight on a residential without a permit, yeah?”

Kise nodded silently and made his way out of the apartment as quickly as humanly possible.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MomoKi developments (or un-developments), Kise thinks he isn't being unreasonable at all.

By all rights, Kise should have been satisfied.

But he simply couldn’t accept the way things were now. The fact remained that although he’d finally been able to sleep with Aomine, it had happened by accident; he wasn’t made up nicely, hardly seductive at all, it was completely unintentional and they’d barely said anything to one another the entire time! It wasn’t a connection. It was just a fuck.

If it was _just a fuck_ he wanted, he’d quit flirting altogether and stick with those bi-weekly visits to Haizaki’s. But even with that guy he felt some kind of connection, some conversation, some exchange between the two. He even knew his favourite brand of cigarettes, for crying out loud! But he still knew just about nothing about Aomine’s tastes, or his shifts, or how his days went; they used to be inseparable. Yet he’d been cumming on his bedsheets only days earlier without so much as a glimpse into him behind the stony expression. It was practically an insult, despite how much he’d wanted it at the time.

He really, really couldn’t quit this far ahead. That morning together had only lit the flame of his curiosity. The thousand questions that his breakup with Kasamatsu had kicked up into the air were colliding with what he wanted to know about Aomine; how did he end up with _that_ person as a flatmate when he normally acted so solitary? Police officers earned enough even fresh out of training, didn’t they? Why was he so disbelieving when Kise said he wanted to hang out? They weren’t things that he could guess just by copying his movements. Even if everything had a motivation behind it, he simply couldn’t push it that far. And if he reached that level of expertise, he may as well just satisfy himself with fantasies from now on instead of with real people, he thought to himself, as he watched Murasakibara and Aomine return to the restaurant table with their trays piled high.

“Apple juice today, Murasakibara?” Akashi commented as his teammate sat down with a grumpy _plonk_ that reverberated through the shared Maji Burger booth seat. 

“Soda machine broke,” Aomine explained, taking his seat opposite Kise. “They still got milkshakes though.”

Kuroko nodded, already nursing his large vanilla shake since being the first one to arrive at Maji Burger that evening. Next to him Murasakibara looked mournful while he shook box after box of fries out onto his tray to form the usual mountain, but ultimately he seemed to resign himself to his miserable fate. “I’ll buy something sweet from the vending machine later...”

“At least it’s given you the opportunity to put some vitamins into that body,” Midorima sighed from Kise’s other side, drawing an irritated glare from Murasakibara.

“Ehhh? What do you care, Mido-chin, so annoying. It’s not like I’m a growing kid any more.”

“Just because you are no longer growing doesn’t mean that you can give up on maintaining your health.”

“Pfffft, you sound like my family doctor…”

“C’mon, you two, relax... it’s really rare that something like this happens, right? Midorimacchi, it’s not like we’re all patients at your practice!” Kise laughed in his gentlest attempt as a mediator, waving his hands anything to dissipate the strange mood that was threatening to turn his good day into a bad one, but Midorima only scoffed and folded his arms.

“You would all finally get some proper care if you were. Dare I say, proper nutrition, in fact.” he needled.

“Eh?!” Kise seized up guiltily like he’d somehow forgotten to hide his shaker-bottle deep in his bag during this visit. Opposite him, Aomine snickered under his breath. Kise shot him an accusatory look. Murasakibara rolled his eyes, locking on to a new target for his annoyance.

“Anyway, Se-chin, I wasn’t gonna say it, but wearing your sunglasses indoors? Isn’t that, like, super obnoxious?”

“Awww, gimme a break! My car’s at the mechanic so I don’t have a choice right now… Unless _you_ want to deal with my agent when she sees me photographed eating fast food in public!” he frowned. Every trip these days had to be on public transport or a taxi to ferry him around Tokyo and he was quickly running out of patience with relying on other people to get him to his plans. He missed his car with its privacy and comfort. If anything it made Kise realise just how much he ran around for fun, even if he claimed to not have any plans besides work.

“Sounds troublesome. Just stay at home next time.”

Kise huffed. “I wouldn’t miss out on our meetups! Even if everyone’s being rude to me the whole time!”

“Don’t lump us in with _his_ shitty mood,” Aomine raised an eyebrow as he shoved his burger in his mouth. “Wouldn’t get anywhere if you just focused on one of us like that.”

“That’s right, Ki-chan… It must be tough without your car, right?” Momoi looked at him delicately over the table. Kise’s heart swelled with affection just seeing her understanding his plight and he stuck a hand out to hold hers.

“Momocchiiiiiiiii, I’m glad _you_ understand!”

“Yeah, must suck sittin’ in the same trains as the rest of us peasants,” Aomine said quietly, glancing aside as if he’d anticipated Kise would glare back at him. Was this revenge? Revenge for trying to tease him? Sure, two could play at that game-- but, in front of everybody, Kise was restricted to only petty distractions, so he nudged Aomine’s foot under the table with his shoe. Aomine kicked his ankle. Kise screeched. 

“What was that for?!”

“You started it,” Aomine grizzled.

“So you _kicked_ me?! That hurt! Geez, who are you, my cap--”

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

Kise flushed red. “If you have a problem, just say it!”

“Ohhh, that’s rich coming from you, huh!”

Momoi broke away from where she was pinching fries away from the packet she was sharing with Kuroko, her eyebrows pinched in mild concern. “Gosh, what’s gotten into you two? It’s like time’s turning back!”

“I’m going to order,” Midorima stood suddenly and left gripping his lucky item. Kise took the opportunity to throw Aomine one last glare, which he returned by childishly pulling a horrible face, before jogging after him in relief. 

“Midorimacchi, wait up, I’ll order too so you don’t have to keep standing up to let me back through--”

“I wouldn’t dream of coming between you and your coveted seat next to Kuroko,” Midorima snipped, refusing to look at him even as they stood in two separate lines next to one another. Kise balked. Why was everyone so annoyed with him? Or rather, what was this attitude Kise could suddenly feel so strongly amongst the group? ...Was he supposed to be resolving things that quickly after what he’d done with everyone?

Kise tried again, this time taking the teasing approach. “C’mon, Midorimacchi… aren’t we even now that you got your revenge on me?”

“Revenge? Don’t make me laugh.” He didn’t even look at him. Which was terrible, Kise thought; what part of pinning him to his kitchen floor and leaving him aroused and alone and insulted wasn’t revenge?!

“Ehhh? That wasn’t what you were doing? To-- avenge Takao, or whatever?”

“Man proposes, God disposes,” Midorima said, pushing up his glasses. “Your own actions put me in a situation where I could mete _retribution_.”

“Ahh, right, _retribution_. Gee, thanks for the short answer, now give me the long one.” Kise rolled his eyes to Midorima’s great irritation. 

“I don’t care what you think of me, Kise, as long as you’ll stop--” Despite his stern tone, he reddened. “--sleeping around with people we know.”

“So it’s okay if it’s complete strangers?”

“Complete strangers won’t feel the need to confide in me. The less I hear of your exploits, the better. Stop making that face.”

Kise dropped his smug expression, switching over to haughty instead. “Well, no need to worry, I’ve been told off pretty badly, huh! I’m sorry, Midorimacchi. I won’t do it again. Ah, combo set A with still mineral water, please! Also, ten-- no, eleven apple pies! For here, yes please. Thaaanks!” he paused just to pay, then stood to the side to await his order. “Really! Midorimacchi, what’s that look for?!”

“I have a hard time believing that you mean it at all. Combo set C, if you please, with bottled tea, to eat in. Thank you.” Midorima folded his hands in front of himself, carrying his wallet in one hand and a crochet needle in the other, Cancer’s lucky item. “What you did would be seen as unforgiveable to most people, especially so soon after the wedding. Completely tactless, in fact.”

“I know. Really! Really, believe me when I said I know, Midorimacchi. That’s why I want to make it up to you.”

“I don’t want anything you could offer me. Thank you, order 76 is mine.” He picked up his tray and stood next to Kise to allow the queue to move. “Even if you grovelled on the floor right now, I wouldn’t accept it, in fact.”

“Ehhh, really? That’s not what Takao said.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about the wait! I know, I know, it’s usually five per customer, right? I really appreciate it!” Kise laughed with the cashier then turned back to Midorima’s angry face. “We messaged a bit and I apologised, and he said he’d forgive me if I bought him dinner, so!”

“When? How?”

“I didn’t do anything weird, Midorimacchi, I just got you a table at a nice restaurant! Takao’s got all the details. My favourite for-- ah, 75, that’s me! Thank you, thanks!” he broke his momentary pout to glimmer at the cashier as he collected his order. “My favourite for Korean barbecue. Prepaid and everything so you two can just go and enjoy a nice romantic evening together. You haven’t had one since you came home from honeymooning, right, Midorimacchi? Plus, Takao said you were saving up to pay off the credit card...”

For a moment he looked perplexed, then to Kise’s satisfaction, glanced aside. “If that’s what he wanted, then I’ll accept it.”

Kise beamed, toting his tray towering high with a paper bag crammed with desserts. “You’re welcome! Okay, let’s go deliver my apology-gift to Murasakibaracchi now!”

The welcome they received back at the table wasn’t as warm as Kise was hoping it would be even as he tried to hand over the baggie of sweets to Murasakibara, sunny and smiling.

“What’s this?” he wrinkled his nose as he took it, peering inside. “...Se-chin, is this for real?”

“Sure is!” Kise chirped as he sat, unscrewing the cap of his water with pride. “Hope this patches things up!”

“Eleven apple pies… Exactly what Aka-chin brought me the other week.”

“Ah...” The flush of satisfaction at having apologised to not one but two people in one night quickly came to a standstill. He knew he’d picked up this tactic from somewhere. Akashi looked up from where he was making neat work of his burger, his keen eyes flicking over the tray as Murasakibara took out packet after packet to count them.

“Impressive. That is the same order exactly.” Akashi said with genuine recognition.

“Ah, well… Hey, it’s not like you were going to buy yourself dessert anyway, right, Murasakibaracchi, right? So it’s a bonus!” Kise didn’t want to reason out loud that _it seemed to work to make him feel better at the time, so_. 

Murasakibara frowned. “I’m already sick of apple today.”

 _Oops_ , Kise thought, he’d already had the juice. All eyes seemed to be on him around the table.

All of a sudden he understood why Murasakibara had hated him for his impression of Himuro so much. That kind of thing should have been an experience unique only to the people at the time. You couldn’t transplant that experience no matter how you liked, especially not so brazenly.

Unless it was Haizaki who was rubbing off on him...

“I see, you copied it.” Akashi commented.

“Was that supposed to be an apology?” Midorima said quietly. Murasakibara’s eyebrow twitched and he crumpled the empty bottle in his hand like it was a paper carton.

“I don’t want ‘em.”

“Ehhh?! But they’re for you--” Kise protested.

“Here, Kuro-chin, Mine-chin, you like these. Momo-chin, you too. Aka-chin.”

Soon the table was filled with silence save for munching on the shared pies. Kise couldn’t bring himself to touch his burger, feeling horribly pressured by everyone’s disappointment.

“Okay, guys, I get it…” he sighed, but Aomine noisily slurped on his milkshake to break the silence.

“I’m not sure you do, or you wouldn’t be pullin’ a face like that.”

“Like what? Like I’m actually sorry? Because I am, if you couldn’t tell!” Kise snapped back. He was nearing his limit of how much persecution he could take, especially from Aomine who in his eyes was very much removed from everything else that had happened with the others and with the aftermath of his breakup. He was meant to be his last target before he said goodbye to this messy part of his life, but so far just about everything that Aomine was involved in had been just that: messy, tangled, hot-headed. Aomine stared at him dumbfoundedly.

“Huuuhh? I dunno what’s gone on with you and him but you can do better than fuckin’-- mimicking somebody else just ‘cause you don’t know how to ‘fess up on your own!”

“Well then, I’m _sorry_ , Aominecchi, that you have to deal with me when I’m already going through a lot!”

“A lot? Taking the train to see _your friends_ is a _lot_?! You really are an idiot.”

“Dai-chan!” Momoi raised her voice to try to drown him out but Aomine scoffed, turning away from her like a sulking kid.

“Uh-huh, so _he’s_ the only one allowed to have a bad day here. _Nobody else_ gets to take it out on other people, yeah?”

“Oh, you didn’t seem to mind coming to my rescue the other night when I was having a _really bad day,_ ” Kise rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat. Such an aloof attitude whipped Aomine right out of his sulk, thumping the tabletop.

“Stupid, that’s because _you_ asked _me_ for help, what was I supposed to do, leave you in the--”

Kise and Aomine stopped bickering instantly as they realised the entire table were looking at them both in wide-eyed silence. Even Midorima had paused texting his husband. The tension made the air feel strained with the new information, that Kise had seen Aomine alone. On top of that they hadn’t actually-- spoken to one another alone since that morning. Kuroko was the first to speak.

“Kise-kun… What did you do the other night?” 

“E-Eh?! Why’re you saying that like I _did_ something?” he immediately whined. Hopefully a high enough pitch and they wouldn’t suspect him at all, despite knowing full well that he was surrounded by only people he had actively tried to make out with, and half of whom were highly aware of Kise’s intentions with Aomine, even if Aomine himself didn’t know about the long-term goal. He broke out into a sweat.

“Car broke down,” Aomine supplied quickly. _Thank you,_ Kise tried to communicate telepathically. The wrong details and everyone might suspect what had happened, even if it was a mistake. If it got out that _everybody_ had had that kind of experience with Kise, he was toast.

“In the neighbourhood,” Kise added, nodding furiously, feeling heat rise in his face, “Aominecchi put me up for the night.”

“I was out, anyway.”

“Left while he was at work. I just met his creepy flatmate, that’s it!”

“He’s not that creepy...” Aomine commented, an eyebrow raised.

“I mean, he’s _pretty_ creepy,” Kise hissed back. Aomine seemed to think about it then nodded.

“Yeah, alright, he’s pretty creepy.”

Murasakibara hummed loudly, completely skeptically. Then his gaze slid from Aomine to Kise’s forcibly-calm face. “Se-chin’s sweating.”

“A-Ahhh, I was just thinking about the creepy flatmate…”

“It’s Imayoshi-kun, after all, isn’t it,” Kuroko said quietly.

“That’s right,” Momoi added, nodding earnestly, “They moved in together during police training...”

“Goodness, Touou are rather close-knit.” Akashi remarked. 

As the conversation moved on with Aomine begrudgingly telling tales of meeting a sleepless Imayoshi in the night on his way in after a long shift, and how they’d both come to be in the same area, Kise laughed at the appropriate moments and in between tale-telling he looked over at Kuroko meaningfully, as if he could thank him with just his expression. Kuroko held his gaze calmly, the milkshake straw in his mouth.

 _I’m not attacking you, but I’m not defending you, either,_ those deep eyes said.

So… that was as good as being on his own, right?! Kise thought about complaining, but he held onto that little chunk of grace Kuroko had thrown him, and played it cool for the rest of the night.

***

“Momocchi, I never thanked you properly for having my back the other night…”

“Hm? Oh, that?” Momoi said quietly, perking up from her complete relaxation in Kise’s arms. “Of course! I don’t like it when anybody is being singled out…”

Kise hummed thoughtfully, tucking his chin atop her head as he spooned her. It had been a few weeks since all of this had started, him and her, and it was almost as though neither of them could wait until the afterglow when they were honest, resting together, nothing as petty as tension or clothes dividing them between the bedsheets. She didn’t let him touch her too much, ‘saving herself for Tetsu-kun’, was her logic, but he did enough to help them both wear themselves out. Plus it felt like an exercise in self-restraint. That was fine, he supposed, it had been a while since anybody had used any kind of discipline on him, and who better than his old coach? Momoi wriggled a little under his hands where he was idly thumbing at her waist. “Ki-chan, that tickles!”

“Oh yeah? How about this?”

“Eek!” she squealed, and then he heard a meow.

“Huh?!”

“Be careful, Minmin’s here too!”

Kise looked over and sure enough, while he was spooning her, she was spooning her cat, the little thing all curled up on the sheets with her arms circling him as he purred happily.

“E-Ehh, I’m not sure how I feel about…”

“It’s my apartment, my rules! I can pet him if I want.” Momoi pouted, and went back to resting. Fair enough, he thought. Momoi’s apartment was conveniently close to the train station he needed for work today; he could invite her back, but something about having a person in his own home felt like a weird level of commitment that he didn’t really want with a friend, even with someone like Momoi, so close to one another. The last person he’d invited back had been Kasamatsu, months ago. It would be strange. 

Besides, he couldn’t exactly complain at the cat being in the bed when he, too, was between two guys in his life; it wasn’t as though there was any competition there either. 

“Oh, but now you mention it, Ki-chan,” Momoi said softly, thoughtfully as she stroked the furball in her arms, “In exchange for having your back… you’ll tell me what actually happened with Dai-chan, won’t you?”

“Huhhh?” Kise sweated, looking all around the room and the ceiling guiltily even though she couldn’t see his face. “I mean, my car really did break down that night! I was like, stranded in Shinjuku and you know how messed up I get after a long flight…”

“What about after then? You slept at Dai-chan’s?”

Kise hesitated juuuust long enough that Momoi looked up at him, and wow, she was so small compared to him -- shorter than Kuroko still, but more pressurising than even Midorima in his stature.

“In, uh, more ways than one…”

“That much was obvious!” she complained despite the pink rising in her face, “The way you two were acting on Thursday! Honestly! It’s about time, I guess, but still, it’s a shock…”

“Wh-what do you mean, ‘about time’?”

“The way you two match up against each other isn’t just on the court, you know?” she sighed like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But he’s kinda hard to talk to… we argued a lot back then too, didn’t we?”

“That just proves it,” she shrugged.

He wasn’t sure what to say to that. He didn’t think that arguing was fun, or good, necessarily; if he had to compare it to anything, it was fun to go all out against an opponent on the court but arguments were designed to hurt each other. Right? It wasn’t as clear-cut as having two sides. It wasn’t a match to see who was stronger. 

“Seeing Dai-chan…” Momoi said quietly. When she didn’t finish the sentence Kise propped himself up slightly to look at her.

“You sound like you’re worried about him.”

“I can’t help it. I feel like he gets hurt so easily.”

“Are you worried I’ll hurt him?”

She deliberated. “No, not on purpose.”

It still stung. “E-Ehhh, so you think he’s going to get hurt regardless…”

Momoi gently pushed herself up to sitting, tipping the cat closer to the edge of the bed as she did, and gathered the sheets around herself. When she was surrounded by the white of the cotton Kise’s heart squeezed; he seriously couldn’t believe what Kuroko was missing, a beautiful, precious person like this.

“It’s probably best if we don’t do this anymore while you’re seeing him, Ki-chan.”

“Huh? Why?” he sat up suddenly.

She couldn’t stop an embarrassed smile showing through her shyness. “Because, you know! He’d get upset if he knew! He’s… sensitive!”

“You’re your own person, Momocchi, he can deal with his friends having sex.” Kise rolled his eyes.

“Gosh, that’s not what it’s about! How would you feel if…” she trailed off and shook her head, curling the ends of a lock of hair around her finger, “Anyway, if it’s him you want to be with, then we have to take a break. We’re still friends after all. That doesn’t change, okay?”

Kise sighed and flopped onto his back. “‘Be with’ him, huh?”

“You know what he’s like. He’s serious about these things.”

He huffed. “Everyone’s so serious. It doesn’t hurt to play around now and then, surely!”

Momoi huffed right back, dragging the cat back onto her lap over the sheets. “Honestly, Ki-chan, you can’t have _everything_.”

Kise thought about that. 

He’d never considered that that was what he was trying to do.

***

According to the garage, it wasn’t that the problem was difficult to repair but rather that there had been a stupidly large (Kise’s words) influx of other customers just before his car got brought in. So it was looking like he could get it back by the end of the week, they said. That left a whole week-and-a-bit of travelling into the city for shoots and was uncomfortably close to his next journey to the airport...

And predictably, Kise was facing a problem that nobody else would sympathise with. Something that only the super-popular KiseRyou would have to deal with while living in inner Tokyo.

There was little point mentioning it to anybody else, since most of his friends outside of his coworkers thought this kind of thing was more of a hilarious occurrence or just an annoying trait if he complained about not being able to go out without being accosted by somebody who recognised him as a celebrity. The viewing gallery of Teikou’s basketball court was always crammed with his fans during every game after all; it was a sight that the Generation of Miracles had become blind and numb to, as well as most of his teammates at Kaijou. ‘Ah, celebrity problems!’, was probably how everybody saw it, Kise thought sourly.

A few fans on his travels here and there weren’t the problem -- in fact it was actually nice, most days, to have that sweet interaction and to make somebody’s day with an autograph or a selfie together! He liked scrolling through tagged pictures on Instagram to see what fans were picking up from his posts and it was cute to see their selfie there. Occasionally Kise was lucky enough to run into the same girl more than once, although he’d be lying if he said he remembered every name and face. But the rest of this week had been tough as he slowly came to realise that there were a few people that he simply couldn’t shake on his journey into the studio. It wasn’t that he was on the same train as another commuter since he changed his route every day… Rather, the way they clung to his shadow as he walked the way from the station to the studio made him realise he was being stalked. That in itself was nerve-wracking because they’d managed to tail him for most of his journeys, at least three days in a row. The next step was learning where he lived, surely?! And then he could say goodbye to his local neighbourhood! If only he could claim back taxi fares, he thought to himself, he wouldn’t be in this situation. Or if he made enough to be worth a security guard…

On the fourth day on the way back to the station he felt somebody bump into him, and when he turned to apologise a woman dashed away holding his pass case in both hands like a trophy. Although he’d called out after her she hadn’t stopped, and from her silhouette Kise realised she was the shadow following him all week. It was the last event to push him over the edge into anxiety, and he took a detour off his path to the local police office; if anything, to figure out what to do next. He had more than a train pass tucked inside that case… the fan must have known she’d get something genuine with his face on it.

“Ummm, excuse me...!” he called out as he approached the counter. There wasn’t anybody at the desk; Kise peered over it, then behind him to check that nobody had followed him in either. The office was almost spacious, airy like the rest of Roppongi Hills where they’d been shooting all day in the fair weather. He waited about five seconds then called out again. “Hellooooo--”

“Comin’, sorry for the wait,” a man replied and emerged from the back room, setting down some documents on the desk. He glanced up and his piercingly dark eyes met Kise’s under the brim of his cap.

“...Kise.”

“Aominecchi!” Kise blurted out, lifting his sunglasses, “What are you doing here? I didn’t know this was where you worked!”

“It ain’t, stupid,” Aomine frowned, then immediately schooled himself into a more orderly way, apparently having forgotten he was meant to be a polite and approachable officer, “I’m coverin’ here ‘cause their usual junior’s sick.”

“Oh, okay. Well then, um,” Awkward, he turned to leave. “My bad! I’ll catch you another time!”

“Huhh? Aren’t you here for something?”

Kise hesitated. He still hadn’t spoken to Aomine properly, even if they counted their fiery exchange at Maji Burger only a few days ago. It felt like there was too much dividing them right now to figure it out while he was working. _I might be reckless, but I’m not a fool_ , Kise thought. He wouldn’t dare to try anything with him while he was on shift, regardless of whether things between them were great or not.

He wished very intensely that Aomine had just-- stayed with him the rest of that morning, really. They could have made up some pillow-talk instead of pretending nothing had ever happened.

“Yeah, actually…”

Aomine motioned for him to grab a seat opposite the desk, and Kise ended up telling him everything that had occurred that week, but in the most restrained, refined way that was probably best for a Zunon model caught outside of the shoot location. He didn’t want to seem _too_ worried. Aomine would probably just make fun of him, anyway, and the chances of him responding calmly were slim with his patience dwindling with every day he was without his car.

“So you think it’s a stalker,” Aomine said bluntly, looking at his notes.

“I don’t think, like, I _know_ ,” Kise replied. Like Midorima, Aomine definitely needed to work on his people-skills if he was going to make it in public services. “And a pickpocket, at that!”

“Man, what’re you doing to make these girls go nuts?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be having this problem, would I?” Kise sighed. Aomine looked at him simply over the counter and shrugged.

“I’ll report it like you described and hopefully we find what they stole… If they were in a hurry maybe they lost it somewhere outside.”

“Can I get someone to drop me home?”

Aomine looked at him like he’d handed him a pumpkin and asked for a carriage. “Really?”

“Well-- yeah! I mean, what if they try it again and they get my wallet or something? I told you, that case has my topped-up travel pass, a loyalty card with my name on it, the temporary building pass for this week. I don’t exactly feel safe! For a start, I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for--”

“Your car, yeah, yeah, I know.” Aomine scratched the back of his head with a pen. “Thing is, we really can’t do anything about the whole stalker business unless there’s-- you know, identifiable stalking activity. It’s not like they tried to hurt you or threaten you. Just petty theft, as far as the papers go.”

Kise sighed dejectedly. He couldn’t even bring himself to pull a grumpy pout when Aomine was using credible, public servant language with him. The day pouting worked to get his way legally he’d never have to worry about working again. “So screw me I guess, and I go home not knowing if I’m going to get mugged again tomorrow?”

Aomine looked tired. “Kise…”

“That-- I’m sorry,” he hung his head, “It’s your job, I know.”

“Call you a cab if you’re that worried.”

Kise winced. “Too close to payday for a journey like that!”

After a beat, Aomine sighed. For the first time Kise noticed that there was another police officer present, but through the sliver of the breakroom that he could see from the desk, he could see the other officer smoking out the window. 

“Listen… It’s rush hour right now. You’re welcome to wait it out here ‘til you feel safe enough to go home by train.”

Kise’s chest tightened. “You don’t mind?”

“Couldn’t stop you.” Aomine didn’t look at him and pulled out some papers from the tiny cabinet beside him, “I’ll file your report, alright.”

The building had a few seats over by the windows at the front of the building; Kise took one and stayed cross-legged, playing on his phone as the minutes ticked by. Occasionally he glanced across to the desk, seeing either Aomine with his back to him making copies of paperwork or the senior officer sitting there trying to look busy. It was probably a good thing that it wasn’t overrun with complaints here, Kise thought-- or maybe, everybody had the same useless service he’d just experienced and avoided the place for lack of any real help.

Really, he just wanted to get out of this stupid situation where nearly all his friends were ignoring him, or at least not paying particular attention to him for the sake of not kicking up more drama. And he wanted someone to treat him nicely the way his ex used to. And he wanted his car, and he wanted Aomine to talk to him again like a person, like back in junior high when they chatted and played and fought all the time and none of it was a big deal -- not this hard-to-crack silent guy! Boundaries were one thing but lately when he was in the same room as him, he constantly felt like he did on that lunch break when Aomine pushed him away, a hand to his shoulder.

Kise thought he’d try to fix one thing at least by calling the garage and to his delight the car was ready for pickup later in the evening; the office rang with the sound of his giddy thank-yous. Just then he saw a shadow cast over his legs, and he looked up at Aomine, standing beside him with his hands in his pockets.

“Wha-- what? I’m not allowed to phone in here?”

“No, dumbass--” Aomine grit his teeth and exhaled, trying to scrape back his on-the-clock manners. “Not that. I’m done for the day.”

“Oh… alright.” Kise’s heart sank. Back to being alone again. “I was only going to be here another ten minutes, anyway.”

Aomine stared at him, then scuffed his shoe on the tiled flooring. “Want company for the way home?”

Like… a guard, Kise thought. Still helping him out when he was in need. “Aominecchi…”

Kise couldn’t believe his eyes to see Aomine glancing away, the hint of a blush in his cheeks, tapping the toe of his brogue on the tile with soft thumps like he was embarrassed. “Thinkin’ if you’re worried about getting recognised you could… borrow something.” He held out his gym bag, the usual one he’d carried with him on those later starts during those lunches together, that presumably held his civilian clothes for travelling to and from work. It was a great suggestion; Kise had commuted in the same outfit, after all. But the very notion of wearing Aomine’s clothes-- or, wearing them again… with consent this time…

“That’s not such a bad idea,” Kise smiled, mirroring his blush. Aomine spotted it out of the corner of his eye and huffed, dropping the bag heavily on Kise’s knees, making him squawk in shock before he dashed off to the staff bathroom to change.

As per his suggestion, Aomine’s clothes fit well enough; sure, there was a little height difference, but considering that most of the man’s wardrobe was mostly oversized block-shaped shirts and tanks with almost nothing fitted at all, the polar opposite of Kise’s preferred look, it worked out just fine. Tag-teamed with the clothes he’d swapped out, Aomine squinted when he emerged from the bathroom. 

“You put perfume on this or something?”

“Hmm? Haha, no, I don’t wear anything like that!” Seeing Aomine in his own slim-fit white shirt and black baseball cap, Kise found his heart fluttering with how weirdly cute he looked, if a little strangely put-together with his shorts. He himself didn’t mind the light hoodie he’d borrowed so much -- he even put the hood up as they exited the office and headed towards the station.

“You don’t have to go the whole line with me, you know, Aominecchi,” Kise said once they were on the evening metro, “You could hop off at the station where we’re changing, really!”

“It’s fine,” Aomine grunted, hunched over his knees on the train like he was trying to block out anybody who could possibly look at them, a pair of tall sporty guys on their way home and nothing more.

“Even if you say that… it’s really out the way for you, isn’t it? Just drop me off at the end station, don’t walk me home, it’ll be alright from there, okay?”

“Shut up.”

“Oooof, no need to be rude, I’m just trying to be nice.” Kise said and tilted his head back, trying to read the ceiling ads through his shades. 

“If you meant it you wouldn’t’ve been bitching at me in the office for a ride home.” Aomine said quietly.

“Yeah, but… you know, the difference between asking for it and you being like-- sort-of a gentleman about it… I feel kinda bad.”

“Oh yeah?”

Kise took a steady breath. “Yeah… I was harsh to you the other day. Like, you were rude to me too! But I’m not mad about it. I probably deserved it.”

“ _Probably_ ,” Aomine snorted, and Kise elbowed him in the ribs until he turned his scoff into gentle laughter, rolling his shoulders back as he straightened his posture as though he was trying to dispel the tension between them.

“Geez, just when I’m trying to be honest,” Kise pouted. Next to him he could feel Aomine go still, like he was holding his breath, and immediately regretted his choice of words.

“Since you’re bein’ _sooo_ honest,” Aomine said very tenderly, “Clear something up for me, Kise.”

“Um… try not to use my name out loud, please?”

Aomine licked his lips then spoke quietly, staring at some indistinct point on the hoodie Kise had borrowed. “How come you stopped messaging me after Monday?”

The day he’d woken up in Aomine’s room and they--

Oh, Kise really didn’t want to get into this on a moving train, definitely not, even if there weren’t very many people around. Or anywhere. Ever. Not with Aomine himself, especially, and not when they were wearing one another’s clothes in public. When Kise didn’t reply after a few terse seconds while he chose his response, Aomine shifted back to his seat.

“Guess I read you wrong,” he murmured then, barely audible over the clack-clack of the train carriage over the rails. Kise panicked.

“No, no, you didn’t--” he blurted out as he sat up, his sunglasses slipping down his nose. “I was just…”

“Awkward? Don’t blame you, after what I did.”

He sounded so painfully bitter. Wide-eyed, Kise realised he’d had no idea that Aomine blamed himself for this colossal fuckup of his. 

“Honestly? It… it wasn’t how I wanted it to go,” Kise struggled. When Aomine glanced over at him-- not meeting his eyes, just passing over his knees, their shoes on the plastic flooring, he felt like he had to try even harder to dig up the truth, “It was good, really. I wanted it! But I didn’t want that to be… you know. All of it. We didn’t get the chance to talk or anything…”

“I should’ve stayed,” Aomine said glumly. Kise kicked his ankle, drawing a hiss of pain from him. “ _Shit_ , right on the bone--”

“It wasn’t because of that, stupid Aominecchi,” Kise huffed. Bent over double Aomine rubbed his sore ankle for a moment before looking up at him over his shoulder.

“Then why--”

“Really? Did it look like I wanted to see _anyone_ alone this week with everything happening? It’s been tough getting around! Not even Momocchi!”

That seemed like a reasonable enough answer because Aomine sat back up again, folding his arms and rolling his head to the side like he was mulling it over. It was sad, Kise thought, that Aomine could only consider the possibility that Kise wasn’t tired of him if he in particular wasn’t special amongst all their friends. ‘If Kise’s just like this with everybody then he isn’t especially avoiding _me’_. Kise hoped he’d continue being oblivious to his goal, in any case.

“So…” Aomine said carefully as though testing out each word at a time, “You… do… wanna keep seein’ each other?”

“Yes, of course!” Kise felt himself getting second-hand embarrassed from this clunky question. What were they, kindergartners? “Talk more and hang out more and play games and whatever! Isn’t it obvious?”

“You gotta stop askin’ that, Kise, with that attitude of yours…”

“I- I said, don’t say my name--”

“On the condition you say you mean it.”

“Mean wh--” Kise caught himself, then looked hard at Aomine’s smirking face and lowered his sunglasses slightly until they could hold eye contact for longer than a second in the bumpy train ride. “I mean it, Aominecchi. I want to see you more.”

“Alright.” Aomine said, and Kise could just about hear a trace of relief in his voice. “Go get a job in Shinjuku then.”

“Pffft. Ask my agent yourself.”

Aomine pulled a funny grin, then put his hands comfortably in his pockets.

“By the way, Kise.”

“ _Aominecchi_ , I said…!”

“Yeah, yeah. What station’re we changin’ at?”

“...”

The journey home felt like an odyssey after an extra hour of doubling-back, but Aomine seemed to be smiling faintly the entire time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> folks we are firmly on the AoKise route now, no more dating sim hours. also the best character in this entire AU finally shows up!!!

Back in junior high their club practice had been pretty brutal; not that any of them knew much different at the time. It came with Teikou’s motto of ‘Ever Victorious’ so anything less would have jeopardised their winning streak. The other sports clubs looked to be having more of a coming-together, more teamwork when Kise watched them as jogged past with the rest of the basketball club; those on the bench in the baseball team cheered or whooped raucously and dog-piled a winning member, and there were shouts of encouragement from coaches and captains on track that they could hear even beyond the winding tarmac route that their coach drove them on in the evenings past the outdoors athletic pitches. And then, the drills; finishing drills, passing drills, string spacing, screens, curls, fades, everything possible to drive them ever forward like a descending army, the five-- the six of them cutting a path through the opposition towards victory.

The running was merely the background to their daily routines after a few months, even when a few members dropped out from it -- why work on your stamina if you could cross the span of the court in only a few long strides? -- and Kise never forgot it. Those outdoor laps were his opportunity to see what he was missing in the other clubs; the indoor laps, a chance to watch other students in the viewing area who weren’t subject to daily discipline. He wondered what kinds of sports they did if they weren’t in a club. There was really nothing better and easier for making your heart race, he’d thought at the time, clinging on to that thought even more strongly when he butted heads with Haizaki with his stupid obsession with girls and bunking off in arcades. 

Aomine seemed half-asleep still as he emerged from the apartment-block’s main door, stuffing his key-fob in a zip pocket. It was earlier than most folks would bother to wake up in the summer break. Perfect weather for a pre-work jog. He yawned, and when he opened his eyes again he saw Kise waiting in front of him, grinning and leaning on the vending-machine at the street corner.

“Morning!” he sang.

Aomine made a noise that vaguely sounded like a greeting. Kise had maybe dressed up a little too much for this, in his favourite sleek running-leggings and athletic shorts, close-fit shirt, even some sporty sunglasses balanced atop his head that seemed to match with his too-bright trainers. As he looked him up and down, with the neon highlights on the leggings’ calves and with his sunny crown of hair, Kise could practically read on Aomine’s expression _at least we’ll be visible when we cross roads_.

“Thought this wouldn’t be too early for you, Aominecchi, why so tired?” 

Unable to deal with the excited-puppy energy in front of him Aomine ruffled his hair harshly, knocking his sunglasses off, until Kise couldn’t help bowing his head to wriggle out of the hold.

“Ought to be me askin’ why you’re so cheerful.” he grumbled while Kise tucked his sunglasses away, screwing his eyes up like he had a headache. Compared to Kise his own running outfit was subtle, those same joggers as always -- or, well, a different pair, Kise supposed -- and a matching unbranded shirt. His shoes looked suspiciously similar to the brand he’d always worn at Touou.

“I’m helping to motivate you, aren’t I?” Kise laughed, “Go on, show me the route!”

It was longer than Kise had expected from a man who constantly looked ten minutes’ of sitting still away from an accidental nap. The path took him around the edges of his district almost as though he was patrolling it, although Kise told himself that was a silly thought.

“You do this every day?”

Aomine half-shrugged, frowning at the map before pocketing his phone. “Try to. You?”

“Hmmm, maybe it’s around the same distance? Not outdoors, but... It’ll be fine! We used to run for wayyyy longer back when, didn’t we? Let’s get going! I’m already warmed up!”

With Kise jogging in place eagerly waiting for him to lead the way, Aomine let out a tired exhale before they began their morning run.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that Aomine knew the route so well, with a few damaged curbsides throwing Kise for a loop that Aomine danced over like he’d simply decided not to be slowed down by them, some muddy patches by the edge of a park he swerved around so swiftly that Kise started to suspect he’d memorised it. Could be easier than trying to watch where he was going when he was still so asleep.

Perhaps asleep wasn’t it, because although Kise was chatting more-- “Hey, don’t we turn back there?” “Aominecchi, wait up, the pedestrian crossing--” “Whoa, the view from here is great!” -- he was sweating with the effort. Aomine was too, of course, but he remained mostly silent other than the odd grunt to acknowledge what he was saying, his eyes hard and focused on the route ahead. Kise realised he was hanging back as they ran to let Aomine lead. Yet again, he was following. Watching his back. He wondered, _seriously_ , why he’d convinced Aomine to let him accompany him on his daily jog. It certainly wasn’t out of wanting to motivate his friend back into a good habit.

Maybe it was something like-- if they could do this kind of thing together, Aomine would remember bit by bit how fun it was to play basketball with other people, not just practising alone! And then he’d play one-on-one with Kise, and it would break down that barrier, and they could grow closer... Or something. Basketball felt like a closed-off part of Aomine’s life right now. The fact that he was so reluctant to talk to Kise about it when it used to be all that they talked about didn’t sit with him. 

...Not that there was no Aomine without basketball, but it wasn’t quite aligned with the image that Kise held of him. The Aomine he’d always chased after. Here he was, chasing him again.

Thirty minutes in and Kise felt like he did during those high-school tournaments, his heart pounding and the feeling of burning in his muscles shifting endlessly around his body from legs to feet to ankles to hips to chest as their movements changed. Aomine must have heard him huff in frustration at the uneven ground throughout the route because he glanced aside at him properly for the first time since they’d started jogging, although he didn’t slow down.

“You good?”

“Yeah-- it’s tougher than I thought, running outside!” he tried to laugh through his panting, “Imagined it’d be easier, short like this…”

Aomine seemed to consider what he was saying, then cut his speed just a little, enough that he was shoulder-to-shoulder with him. But Kise laughed. He had his pride, still, even if he looked like he was struggling.

“Hey, what’re you doing, Aominecchi? Don’t wait up for me.”

“Suit yourself,” he murmured, and picked up the pace again. They were on the home stretch, and if he couldn’t match his speed even when the route was familiar enough that Kise could work out the rest of the way, then there was no point in hurting himself to catch up now, was there?

 _Reckless, huh_ , Kise thought as his ankle started to strain and twinge. He could have insisted on any number of other activities to do together that didn’t involve this little hit of light competition.

Kise wondered if this was him playing at looking up to Aomine again.

...As soon as Kasamatsu and Kise were dating _outside_ of school, that hierarchy between them had degraded. He still referred to him as a senpai but the reality was that that relationship between captain and player no longer existed, therefore it didn’t require the effort a kouhai needed to put in to be up to the captain’s standards of play, regardless of whether he was the ace or not. 

Aomine, on the other hand, had always, always, _always_ been unattainable. The difference between authority and rivalry. Nothing motivated Kise more than having a goal to beat. Perfect Copying the others’ techniques came to him naturally, some with more pillaging required than others, but finally clawing his way up to copy Aomine had been a vicious struggle.

Similarly, with the others… they’d responded to him so easily. 

But Aomine wasn’t looking at him the way Kise wanted him to. It felt like he wasn’t seeing him at all.

They completed the route just as the sun started to rise over the neighbourhood, the sky traced with pastel colours that drew their eyes up briefly, the sunlight glinting off the apartment’s windows. Aomine broke away first and bent over by the vending-machines as he made a choice; Kise tried to focus on stretching out his locked-up legs yet he couldn’t drag his gaze away from Aomine’s back.

At what point did he start believing that he’d surpassed Aomine in some way? 

Was it because they’d happened to play _together_ in Vorpal Swords -- or maybe because Kagami had given up basketball, so all of them did the moment they graduated from high school, so no competition existed between any of them any longer?

A lack of competition didn’t mean that you automatically won.

Aomine shrinking into himself; Aomine not dating, not talking about his work as though those were some sorts of marks of adulthood that Kise had long achieved himself and wore like badges of honour when he chatted with everybody about how _hard_ it was to do _everything_ when everything _else_ had you _so busy_ all of the time. He’d thought he was mature for it.

He was so busy… but he’d made two hours’ time in his schedule this morning to drive here, to park, to wait for Aomine, to jog, with room for recovery before he started his day.

When did his stamina wither away? Or, when did Aomine improve his? Maintained it?

Did he still dream of playing basketball with a rival?

Kise… really wasn’t working hard for _anybody’s sake_ , not even his own, he realised suddenly as he heard Aomine’s voice across from him yet sounding terribly far away, “Hey, catch.”

He saw the bottle of Pocari flying at him just a second too late, barely catching it with his fingertips but fumbling so much that he fell over onto his butt with a yelp on the sidewalk. It was enough of a shock to tumble like this when he used to do it all the time on squeaky-clean indoor courts that Aomine hurried over when he saw him go.

“Kise, oi. You spacin’ out or something?”

“Yeah, whew, after such a workout--” he winced as he stood up and dusted himself off, tapping his toe to the ground to loosen up his bad leg. Aomine didn’t look convinced.

“Thought you said you ran every day too.”

“Hahaha, you caught me! I run at the gym, it-- ow, it has treadmills. Less impact. Guess that’s why I thought thirty minutes would be no trouble at all since I’m normally there for like, an hour?”

Aomine stared at him stonily as Kise forced himself not to pay attention to his throbbing tendon, then scoffed. “Gym ain’t nothing like terrain.”

“I know that _now_ , gosh,” Kise rolled his eyes and uncapped his drink. “I never got into streetball like you so now I finally got to experience that for myself, I guess!”

After a steely silence Aomine wiped his forehead and found his keys. “Don’t have to do this again.”

“Huh? But we made such good progress today! See, it’s day one of your streak, so we have to keep it up, right? Making habits and all!”

“I’ll keep it up on my own.” He looked stern.

“What’s with that…?” Kise frowned. He was starting to get the impression that Aomine was starting to withdraw again, the way he did when things got too heated. “I’ll know the route better next time, so I won’t be slowing you down. It was awkward with me hanging back like that, I know--”

“It ain’t about that,” Aomine said, then he sighed, pulling out his phone to turn off an alarm -- from the quick glimpse Kise saw, it was some kind of scheduled reminder. “Forget I said anything.”

“Geez, Aominecchi, you’re so hot and cold.” Kise swung his drink bottle out to playfully bop him on the hip but Aomine reacted faster and grabbed it as swiftly as if he was swatting a fly. “Heyyy, that’s my--”

He trailed off as Aomine inched his hand up the neck of the bottle, his fingers climbing over Kise’s, until his palm covered his knuckles, his fingertips dipped in the spaces between Kise’s fingers. It shouldn’t have felt as magical as it did, considering how handsy he’d been with Aomine the week prior. And yet. 

He’d never thought of Aomine as much of a touchy-feely guy, at least not since Teikou...

Although they were both sweating from the run, half-recovered, the bottle trying to slip from between Kise’s fingers and Aomine’s palm clammy over his skin, neither of them said anything -- Kise couldn’t even bring himself to look up at his face.

As though that might draw the feeling of his touch to an end.

“Um.” he said eventually.

Aomine seemed to try to grasp at words, then just as quickly as he’d grabbed him he let go, turning back towards his apartment but pausing to look at Kise over his shoulder. “Drinks’re on you next time.”

Still in a state of slow surprise, Kise was tongue-tied for a second before calling back, “So-- same time tomorrow?”

“Wednesday,” he called, waving without looking back. Another two days away -- it felt as though he was forcing Kise to wait. Forcing him to have patience the way Momoi had clearly stated her boundaries before.

“I’ll be waiting!” Kise waved back even if he couldn’t see him, even if he was already disappearing into the building. Something about even a snatch of Aomine’s attention had him hungry for more.

Things were beginning to feel a little like they did in junior high, and Kise wasn’t sure he liked it. But that was the one time of his life when the two of them were truly close.

So, maybe he could indulge in this feeling a little longer -- of looking at Aomine’s back. Just a little more.

***

True to his word, Kise was early and waiting where Aomine asked him to meet, on the edge of a public park that they had run past on their first jog together. He’d had to park a little further away but that wasn’t a problem; it gave him time to slowly walk to the meeting-spot so that he was early, but not _too_ early, not _desperately_ early. There wasn’t as much greenery around outside where Kise lived. Or maybe he just hadn’t explored the neighbourhood much. 

One or two other joggers were out already at this time which Kise watched idly as he stretched his legs, making their laps around the far end of the park. The crunch of gravel next to him preluded Aomine’s greeting.

“Yo.”

Kise looked up from where he was bent over his legs, aiming to give him the sunniest, glitteriest hello anybody could have at 5am before he properly opened his eyes at Aomine. “Morning, Aominecch-- ehh, huge! What is that huge thing--?!”

“Don’t be rude,” Aomine frowned as the huge thing in question behind him emerged; a black-and-white beast, Kise thought, until it turned and looked at him happily, all fluff and paws and terrifyingly big, a malamut dog that stood tall enough to line up with Aomine’s hip. It almost wore a cheeky expression with its wide curling mouth and wagging tail.

“Wh-when did you get a dog?”

“He ain’t mine,” Aomine grumbled, rolling his head back to crack his neck. “Dogsittin’ for the day. C’mon, say hi. Good boy.”

Kise looked into the big dog’s face, but at the sound of Aomine’s encouraging voice the malamut bounded a little closer, and Kise found himself eye-to-eye with a terribly familiar expression that reminded him so, so strongly of Kuroko, of that particular little puppy he used to stuff into his bag when he came to watch matches. 

“Wait. Wait, wait, this can’t be--”

“Hunh? It’s obviously Tetsu Number 2. Alright, sit. Good boy.”

Tetsuya Number 2 sat obediently. That was a name he’d completely forgotten, lost in all the memories of the interhighs and Winter Cups years ago, and it surged forward in his mind along with the image of Kuroko balancing him on his head like a Beanie-baby. “Eh?! No, wait-- Aominecchi, I feel like you’re not seeing what I’m seeing! Why would a tiny puppy like that be so huge now?!”

“They grow this big,” he replied as though his patience was being tested by this lack of common knowledge, and left it at that.

“Eh… Uh-huh, okay…”

After a terse moment of staring into this new grown-up face of Number 2’s in front of him, Kise leaned back, putting his hands on his hips. “So… I guess it’s a walk today? Or, like, _walkies_?”

“No, we’re runnin’.” Aomine said.

“Huh? Running?” Kise looked at him. He hadn’t properly taken in how he looked today, somehow more streamlined in his clothes than he’d been the first time; the eyebags were still there but Aomine moved slightly faster as he unclipped the dog’s leash from his collar and stuffed it into his pocket. He squatted down to be eye-level with Number 2 like a football coach.

“You’re gonna be a good boy and stay on the path, okay?”

Number 2 barked, a deafening sound compared to the little yaps he used to make as a puppy, and the instant Aomine’s pace broke into a jog, Number 2 danced off next to him in a happy little trot, constantly checking beside him down the path to make sure that his human was still nearby. Kise stood watching them for a moment until he snapped out of his weird reverie of watching two black-and-white-coated dorks dashing into the distance of the park and ran after them to catch up.

***

“You two-- would make a good team,” Kise gasped, wiping his forehead with the hem of his shirt as the three of them completed the run with a cool-down speedwalk. Although their third member was a plus-one to their almost-a-date, they’d ended up running after him or trying to match his speed, which was nearly impossible, Kise realised, considering Number 2 was technically some kind of sled-dog… “Don’t think anyone would dare to steal the ball away from him if he had possession!”

“He’s had a good trainer,” Aomine said coolly, occasionally winding the leash back in his hand if Number 2 got too close to examining the contents of a park trashcan or a flowerbed. He glanced at Kise beside him wrangling the black sweatshirt tied around his waist and pulling it on in the morning chill; when his head popped out of the neck Aomine tutted under his breath, seeing that it was a hoodie.

“What? You don’t like it, Aominecchi?” Kise smirked. Aomine only narrowed his eyes judgmentally.

“Oi, you…”

“The style kind of grew on me after I tried yours on, you know! Fits me nicely!” Kise laughed, mostly to himself as he tucked the hood up around his hair like he was preening, to Aomine’s exhaustion. He figured they could probably joke about it now. “So, like, Number 2… It’s Kurokocchi’s coach who owns him now, right? I would’ve thought Kurokocchi would have been the number one choice to take him home after graduation...”

Aomine nodded. “She’s got space. Tetsu doesn’t. She’s outta town today, so.”

“Whoa… I wonder what she does now, that coach? I’ll have to ask Kurokocchi. Still, I never expected something like that from you, Aominecchi, keeping in touch with the folks at Seirin!”

Next to him Aomine shrugged. Although he hadn’t cracked a smile all morning, something about Number 2’s presence had kept his expression light, as though the dog had briefly taken his burdens off his shoulders for the duration of the run. The way his eyes closely followed his movements across the path seemed to take up most of his attention and when Number 2 ran up to him to drop off a stick or a toy he ruffled the top of his head and his floppy ears with a certain kind of warmth. “Tetsu offered me up since he didn’t know anyone else who likes dogs.”

“Ehhh, I feel like Momocchi would be the next-best choice, but…”

“She’s got that cat of hers.”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t get along. Or, maybe they would? Because of Minmin being so…”

He didn’t finish that sentence, as close as it was to toeing the line between mentioning Kagami and explicitly, awkwardly, not mentioning Kagami, which almost felt worse. Luckily that was the precise moment Number 2 chose to gallop after a butterfly in the park, causing Aomine to lunge forward a few steps and curse under his breath before calling out to wrangle him back to good-boy behaviour. Kise jogged to catch up, and just beyond the spot where Aomine had squatted to bribe the dog with a packet of snacks, he spotted a cleared-out section in the grass: a clean-looking basketball court, tucked into the corner of the park with high chain-link fencing. Of course nobody was using it at dawn; it looked pristine from here.

“Look at that, Aominecchi… Did you know this was here?”

“Huh?” As he straightened up, wiping his slobbery hand on his shorts, he followed Kise’s gaze. “That’s new.”

“It is, right? It looks nice-- the net’s even all intact!”

“That’s rare.”

They fell silent, admiring it from a distance while Number 2 gnawed on the throw-toy from Aomine’s shoulder-pack. 

“...Hey, why don’t we play sometime? Basketball, I mean,” Kise grinned. 

“You’re still on that? Basketball, huh.” Aomine replied flatly without hesitation. Something in his tone made Kise want to react loudly, _why don’t you want to play when you were the best_ , but after he’d pushed him so much about it on those lunch breaks, he paused to think. This was the least defensive Aomine had been about the topic since he’d first mentioned it.

“Yeah! Like… I get the impression that you still practice. You do, don’t you? I mean, it’s Aominecchi, so of course you’d stay sharp.” he tested, the words coming smoothly, carefully.

He seemed to think about whether to admit it or not, then breathed, cracking his neck casually. He appeared to be giving in. After all, it had been some time since anybody had pestered him about it. 

“Not that much. Not against anybody.”

“Oh, I guess, not since Kagamicchi--”

Instantly Kise regretted letting the name drop, for the way Aomine’s posture stiffened like an emotional rigor mortis. He never said it that lightly since Kuroko had been extremely strict with him about it, and come to think of it, he actually hadn’t heard Aomine himself say Kagami’s name for-- years, it felt. They’d never spoken about what happened since they’d all left high school and Seirin was a name lost to their collective memory. Talking about Kagami was like talking about somebody who’d died a preventable death and never had a funeral. That’s exactly how they were meant to treat the situation: a person who could never be contacted again. Aomine seemed to mourn him most of all.

But as though trying to shake it off Aomine just lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck. So forgiving, Kise thought gratefully. Or maybe he was trying to force himself to get past it.

“You, Kise?” The sound of his name in Aomine’s voice, however tired, had his heart leap to his mouth. “You still play?”

“Hmmm, occasionally! Well, not lately, since usually I used the court at Kasamatsu-senpai’s--”

Again, he’d fucked up _again_ , Kise cringed internally, breaking out into a cold sweat atop the fresh one from jogging. First Kagami, now his ex? Why was he messing up so bad in front of Aomine when he was just trying to-- speak normally to him? What was he actually trying to do here: push him away or get closer? Number 2’s eyes on him felt like Kuroko’s, never judgmental but all-seeing, and even a dog could see how badly he was ruining his chances.

“Oh.” Aomine said, a noncommittal noise, glancing away awkwardly before he looked at Kise and faced him properly this time. “... He goes to that smaller sports college, right.”

“Y-Yeah,” Kise had no idea where that stammer had come from, nor the heat in his face -- the last person he wanted to speak to about his ex-boyfriend, he realised, was the one standing in front of him. He’d had an easier time chatting to Imayoshi about it! “On the other side of the river.”

“Not Satsuki’s, huh. Got a good court?”

“Yeah, it does, actually, they have multiple! Indoors and great lighting.” Kasamatsu had gone to a university specifically to pursue a career in basketball, after all; it was designed for several teams to be able to practice at once, different types of training. 

“You’re probably sharper than I am, then. I only got a freakin’... streetball court near my place. Half-vandalised.”

Kise couldn’t help giggling. “So, what, you take the rainy season off?”

“I’m not stupid, I don’t wanna catch a cold. Satsuki’d beat me up.” Aomine rolled his eyes, Kise having hit the nail on the head. Suddenly he felt like teasing him.

“Thought idiots didn’t catch colds?”

“Alright, you,” Aomine sighed and tugged sharply on Kise’s hoodie-string so the hood closed up around his face like a drawn curtain.

“Hey!” Kise protested but as he loosened the cords to expose his face again he saw-- the pinch in Aomine’s cheeks, a smile, even as he turned away to hide it.

“I wouldn’t mind,” he said as he faced away, “But I won’t lose on my home court.”

“Hmmmm, is that a promise?”

“That’s just how it is.”

Kise laughed, and with a swing in his step, he went to catch Aomine by the shoulder to pull him back. “Then, some evening soon when the weather is really clear without a drop of rain in sight, I’ll swing by your place and you can show me--”

He turned to face Kise at the touch and kept going. Kise felt the touch at his upper arm over the fabric of his sweatshirt, Aomine’s hand closing around his bicep as he pulled him closer, then stopped suddenly, toe-to-toe on the path. Kise could feel his breath on his face; his eyes were soft, looking at him directly from centimetres away. Close enough to bump into one another if either so much as breathed. For a moment it seemed like they would never move, until Aomine’s gaze began to descend to rest at his lips. Just the attention had them trembling.

“...Aominecchi?”

The way Kise’s brain short-circuited when Aomine made a move was _not_ helpful. It was--nothing at all, it wasn’t even a _kiss_ , they’d already done so much more, why was this frazzling him so much?

“That--” Aomine said, his voice wavering, “--yeah. Do that.”

“Yeah?” Kise breathed. Aomine nodded, hardly making eye contact with him for how much he seemed to be scrambling to look at literally anywhere else on his person than his face.

“On Fridays--” he stopped, distracted by a tugging on the leash as Number 2 had pulled on it to its full extension; Aomine sighed and tried to loop it back in, frowning at the handle like it was the one that had ruined the moment. “Or just call me when…”

“Yeah, if you pick up,” Kise laughed, meaning it as a joke-- but to his great surprise, Aomine just looked more embarrassed, his cropped haircut slicked with sweat making him look more like a shy student with a love-letter than a twenty-year-old trying to make a date.

“If it’s you.” he murmured, and before Kise could react Aomine found himself tugged down the path on the leash as Number 2 roamed further out. “Alright, alright, I’m comin’, hold up!”

The way he ran after the dog and let it chase him in return, not quite laughing but still calling out to him encouragingly, tugged at Kise’s heartstrings. It didn’t matter too much that their moment had been cut short. What Aomine had said felt very much like a promise -- to pick up if he called. _Anytime?_ , he wanted to ask. And there was definitely a next time, despite his every sign pointing the other way the last time they’d met up.

 _At least until next time, I’ll give this a chance_ , Kise thought. Not with the intention of giving up, but the desire to make something happen the next time. Deepening their connection from simply shared jokes over junk food surrounded by others. Like Aomine could let him see a little more of himself. Smiling to himself, he jogged over to where Aomine was crouched down on the grass, as Number 2 stood happily panting nearby.

“He’s got you playing fetch, huh?” Kise grinned. Aomine turned, holding a plastic baggie of something steaming and gross in his outstretched hand. No wonder Number 2 looked so proud of himself.

“If I throw it, think it’ll make it to the poop bin?”

Kise shrieked. “Don’t throw it!”

“Hunh? I can make the shot, it’s fine--” Aomine raised an eyebrow as Kise backed away.

“Don’t! No, don’t throw-- _Oh my god get away from me with that!_ Aominecchiiiii!”

***

Lately, the word ‘Shougo-kun’ had felt like a bad habit he needed to kick. Yet somehow, just like a bad habit, he was horribly addictive. That was probably why Kise stopped seeing him even once he’d gotten his car back. Sure, he hadn’t exactly been on his best behaviour with the rest of his friends, but… getting involved with a guy who united them in their disdain for him seemed like it would be the nail in the coffin for Kise.

Which was a pity, really, because he was kind of interesting. At least, _he_ thought so in the afterglow, and Kise could never tell if he was horribly fake or horribly honest with himself once he was exhausted of all his energy with none left to spare for faking niceness.

Other than the sounds of their panting recovery, his room was quiet. Haizaki lay on his back, spinning the cigarette-packet idly in his hand as Kise drew the covers up around his waist. There had been more moments like this of late: nothing said, no small-talk. Maybe they were beginning to understand one another. Or maybe Haizaki had finally run out of things to strike up a conversation about. He never really had more of a repertoire than saying lewd things about women, anyway. Kise thought about enjoying the silence between them for a few more moments-- at least, until he saw his phone light up from the floor with a slew of notifications across the screen. He unlocked it only to be met with a name he couldn’t possibly be reading when in this place, having just done _that_.

“Oh-- Oh, my god,” gasped Kise as he saw the missed call, rolling out of bed to grab it and phone his voicemail. Next to him Haizaki yanked the sheets back around himself and watched Kise’s naked back for a moment while the dial tone rang.

“Where’s the fire?”

“I have to go,” Kise gabbled, doing his usual run-through of the place to pick his clothes off the floor at double speed, yanking on his skinny jeans with terrifying agility.

“Pfft. Y’ain’t gonna stay long enough for--”

“See you around, Shougo-kun!”

“Huh? Wait, Ryou--”

The door slammed as Kise tore his desperate way out of the apartment complex.

_Aominecchi called me!_

He listened to the voicemail: some indistinct mush of sounds and then, after a sigh, his voice came:

_“Oiiii, Kise… Oh, shit, it’s voicemail, huh? When you get this, come over.”_

“‘Come over’? Come over where--” he instantly realised as he said it aloud, flustered and panicking in the driver’s seat. His apartment? Aomine’s place? He sounded drunk. At midnight, no less; did he get into trouble?

His heart pounded with fearful excitement. He imagined what would have happened if he’d called back straight away while Haizaki lay next to him in the bed; he probably would have yelled something lewd just to jeopardise him, and then… and then it probably would have all been over between him and Aomine, wouldn’t it? He couldn’t think of many people he hated more than their old teammate, anybody he would dislike indirect contact with than him.

No, he was going to stop thinking right there, since Aomine probably wasn’t, either -- this was his chance to connect with him. He drove as steadily as he could in the night despite the anticipation riling him up like nothing else and made it to Aomine’s place in record time.

“What took you so long?” were the first words out of Aomine’s mouth as he opened the door to him, the apartment behind him dimly lit and the lightest waft of beer hanging around his person.

“I was in bed,” Kise lied quickly as he slipped past him, and the instant Aomine had the door locked and the chain slotted, Kise shucked off his jacket to the floor and stepped closer, their bodies colliding as Aomine pulled him into a kiss with a hand firm on the back of his neck. As if he’d want to pull away, Kise thought as he sighed into him. His mouth was cool and tinny with the taste of canned beers, the slightest bump of Aomine’s back leaning against the door that settled his body closer to him, Kise’s hands gripping at his hips through his shirt.

“Kise,” Aomine sighed against his mouth between lazy rolls of his tongue against his teeth, against his lips. Their first kiss wasn’t bad at all. He was warm, or maybe that was just Kise’s temperature skyrocketing the instant their bodies touched; he wanted to shed everything he was wearing so he wouldn’t be sweating further into his clothes, so Aomine could appreciate him the way he was, so he could coax Aomine into getting naked too and then, and then--

But lost in his fantasy it took him a second to notice when Aomine had pulled back and _stayed_ back.

“What is it?” Kise looked at him hazily, barely surfacing from the utter pleasure of his mouth on his. Then he sharpened his focus very, very quickly as Aomine frowned over his drunk-blush.

“Why do you smell like cigarettes?”

Kise’s stomach plummeted as he thought of Haizaki’s apartment, minutes prior. 

His usual post-sex smoke.

He’d never gone anywhere immediately after fucking him and besides, when he got home he usually showered and scrubbed himself half to death until he smelled like a clean and fresh human being again and every single trace of the other guy disappeared down the shower drain.

In front of him Aomine seemed to be doing the mental maths of recalling who of their friends smoked, which, the last time anybody counted from a group of ex-sportsmen, was strictly zero. “Where _were_ you? Were you with someone?” He continued, raising an eyebrow mostly out of confusion slowly degrading into curiosity. 

“I-- nobody,” he rebuffed, then tried to pull them back to what they were doing, sliding his fingers down Aomine’s stomach but he grabbed his wrist and squinted at him. 

“Not like it’s my business, but who’re you seein’?”

“Nobody,” Kise maintained even as he felt his ability to fake anything, literally _anything_ , slipping away with every second that ticked by under the crushing pressure of Aomine’s presence. The air still burned, Aomine’s stomach was hot against his skin, his breath close enough to taste--

“Someone we know? Someone we _knew_?” Aomine gripped his waist and pushed away from the door until, with a whirl, Kise’s back hit the metal and he felt Aomine’s weight press against him, his knee squeezed between Kise’s legs dragging a gasp out of him. He could feel his hard-on through his jeans.

“Not-- not anybody you--” he tried to rebuff, to at least put the fear to rest that he was fucking Kagami or Himuro or-- someone he really shouldn’t be messing with, that much he knew.

“It’s not Haizaki?” Aomine growled.

“...” 

Kise could either lie and look away, or look at him and say nothing. Aomine’s hard-set expression was too intense and there was nothing he could say, so he stayed silent, flushed and sweating, chewing on his lower lip. Instantly Aomine’s eyes flew open from their frown and he swelled in anger.

“You’re fucking _Haizaki_?!”

“Aominecchi, there’s nothing else between us, I--” But as if he could defend himself further when he’d caught him red-handed and Aomine’s grip tightened, squeezing his hips and grinding against him, against the door clicking in the frame with Kise’s weight. Everywhere he touched was hot, he felt his shirt sticking against his back in protest as those strong hands yanked it up his torso. “A-Aomine--”

He gasped under the feeling of him on his neck, the briefest warmth of his lips before Aomine was biting on his clavicle, making him wriggle under the discomfort of teeth dragging on bone until he was grinding right back onto his knee. Aomine’s hands were popping open his trousers’ button, practically tearing the zip open, and it was a miracle Kise didn’t arch and curl into the touch like he would normally as he shoved his warm palm into the gap and rubbed him through his pants -- if not for the sudden fear making his heart flutter in his chest and holding him back. He didn’t think he’d be this angry. It wasn’t a problem as such-- this was what he wanted to happen-- but he wasn’t expecting things to take this form. Aomine pulled back from his shoulder, teeth scraping like some kind of predator, leaving him trembling with the pleasure edging its way over the border to pain.

“Out of everyone you’ve been makin’ the rounds on, and you picked _that piece of shit_ to waste your time on? Kise, Kise, _you_ ,” he snarled, wrapping an arm around Kise’s waist as he undid his slacks, yanked the pants off Kise’s ass in a fumbled but strong motion.

“It was a mistake, I know,” Kise said quickly between heavy inhales; so he knew about the others, but he still wanted Kise, yet Haizaki was a step too far? The pace, the pace was-- “I didn’t think that, _ah_.”

“That’s right, you _didn’t_ think!” Aomine was shaking, now, his hand between Kise’s thighs as he tried to edge his pants further down one-handedly; he didn’t seem interested in letting go of him either, not that Kise knew if he’d be able to stand of his own accord at this point, “The guy tried to end your career, that waste of fucking air, but you just see him like nothing’s happened--”

Kise couldn’t help gasping aloud when he reached his ass and slid a finger into him. He didn’t know what was more of a shock; the speed of it, or the fact that--

“Kise, you…”

\--that he was still slick and stretched from where Haizaki had fucked him earlier.

Aomine shifted to look at him, Kise’s face of anticipation, the way he trembled against the door, steaming up the metal behind his back.

“I’m gonna fix this,” Aomine growled, drawing a condom packet from his back pocket and tearing it open with his teeth.

“If I’d known you were going to call me, it wouldn’t be like this.” Kise complained, watching as he fumbled and eventually shoved the condom into Kise’s hands for him to take charge; with slightly steadier hands, he rolled it over his cock, the shaft harder than he’d expected when he was so drunk. When he was finished Aomine fingered him again, leaving his legs trembling as he tried to keep standing. 

“You plan for this kinda thing?” 

“Not exactly-- _mm_ ,” Kise bit down on his lip as he inserted two more fingers then scissored them, not that he needed it.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re basically gift-wrapped, wet like this.”

Despite the accusation Kise flushed, unbearably hot even though he’d been half-stripped. Without hesitation Aomine grabbed him by the hips, shoving him back against the door, and pushed his cock in, and the way he slipped inside when he’d already been stretched and lubed, the angle-- Kise lost his footing and Aomine grabbed him with just the right grip to shove deeper, hitting him right where he needed it. A little steadying, then Aomine was holding him by the waist again, tucking him closer until Kise could wrap his legs around his waist. Drunk logistics. He had no idea how this was going to work, even if it already felt good, even if something felt completely elating about being held in Aomine’s strong arms, never mind the situation he’d found himself in.

As though reading his mind, however, Aomine started pumping, pushing into him quickly in a way that had Kise gasping, every pump sliding against that spot sending another wave of heat through his body. Was it because of being prepared earlier? Was it because it was Aomine? He peeked up at him, his head dipped over him and his eyes shut like he was concentrating-- something he’d never seen before on such a fierce player.

“Aominecchi--”

With a snap of his hips he thrust harder, _deeper_ , filling him, sending Kise reeling for the shock and clutching at the back of his shirt. It didn’t feel bad, not one bit, but how everything changed when he was rough with him suddenly…

“That’s right,” Aomine said as if in response to his panting, “That’s right, forget about him. You’re with me.”

How could he forget who he was with when his vision was filled with Aomine’s form; his strong shoulders over him, his arms wrapped around his waist, the way he felt inside him. It was better than any fantasy and felt more real the rougher he got, thrusting deeper, more desperately like he was closer than he made out to be. Even if it hurt, even if he felt sore already from the slap of Aomine’s thighs against his ass as he bucked, the way his clothes caught on his bare skin.

“You’re, mm--”

“Say it,” Aomine growled, pumping faster until Kise felt raw, the way he’d slide out with the head of his cock stretching him on every thrust inside, “Say it, Kise.”

He stuttered, snatches of words sounding like only noises the harder he bucked, his back hitting the metal door with louder and louder thumps.

“Say it! Say it!”

Kise shivered as he felt Aomine tense up, still for a second inside him with anticipation, and spoke softly in the silence, “Aominecchi…!”

The fact that it was enough to have Aomine thrust inside him one last time before shuddering and yanking Kise down onto him, his arms wrapped around him so tightly he thought he’d leave a mark, curling over him until Kise realised he was gripping his back, too; like they’d never move until Aomine was finished panting like a wild animal and pulsing and weakly pushing in and out of him as he rode it out; it was too tender, all too soft for the way he’d been fucking him only seconds prior, and Kise felt his heart flutter although that, too, could simply have been from the come-down. Aomine staggered slightly as he pulled out and lowered Kise, their weight counteracting one another until they both slid to the ground, Kise’s back flat against the door. They stayed there, legs tangled and Aomine kneeling against Kise’s thighs, catching their breath, until Kise slipped his hand down to touch himself -- he hadn’t finished yet. Not that it would take much more. Aomine opened his eyes at the slick sound of his pumping.

“Kise.” he said simply, low in his throat like a warning growl. It sent shivers through his spine, already so close, so hard, aching for release.

“You don’t mind, right?” Kise murmured, looking at him searchingly even though Aomine had his eyes fixed firmly on what he was doing with his hand. After a silent few seconds he pulled back to slip the condom off himself, wrapped his arms firmly around Kise and lifted him to his feet, to the sound of his weak protest. He shut up as Aomine grabbed him by the hand and walked him stiffly to his bedroom through the dark of the apartment. 

Neither of them spoke, even as Aomine pushed him into the pillows and took care of him himself. Even as Kise tried to return the favour at the same time. 

They slipped into sleep, tangled in the bedsheets, not once talking about what they were doing.


	9. Chapter 9

When Aomine finally stirred it was less of an awakening and more of a necromancer’s summoning for the way his body stayed absolutely, perfectly still as he lay in bed when his eyes cracked open, bloodshot and exhausted in the strip of morning light that had fallen across his face from the gap in the curtains. He looked like he wanted not only to die, but to be buried in his bedsheets, his eyebags low and purple on his face. Which was a pity, because Kise -- perfectly sober as he had been all night -- had tucked himself prettily next to him in bed to give him his best possible angle when he woke up, in last night’s shirt with the neckline revealing his clavicle. Flawless.

“Wakey-wakey,” Kise called as softly as he could manage. Aomine, unmoving, stared at him in shock like he hadn’t noticed he was there, then rolled over to face the wall.

“I’m so sorry,” he groaned.

“Hmm? Huh?”

“Fuck.” he said, and then, as the memories of the previous night hit him at the same time as his throbbing hangover, “Fuuuuuuck. Why’re you still here?”

“Because I just woke up?” Kise stretched. He hoped it looked appealing, but Aomine didn’t turn to look. So much for all his preparation to look pristine; he’d already had the time to disappear to wash his face before returning to bed.

“Kise, I fucked up.”

Kise smiled sheepishly. As far as he was concerned, they had done so much of that of late that another fuckup didn’t matter. He’d even gotten a whole lot of Aomine’s attention from it. “So did I, right? That’s why you--”

Aomine groaned loud enough to interrupt him. “Don’t remind me, ohhhhh my god. Shit.”

And with that he tumbled out of bed, past Kise, and into the bathroom to run his head under the cold tap until he couldn’t think any more.

...It was a good thing Kise had the day off to wait out that hangover of his. Aomine didn’t emerge until an hour later, looking like a victim of a summoning. Kise wound up having breakfast since Imayoshi was both home and awake; some unholy combination of Imayoshi’s signature _un_ rolled omelettes and Kise’s buttered toast and jam plus whatever he’d topped the coffee machine up with. They were watching reruns of a variety show when he lurched his way into the lounge-kitchen like a zombie.

“Mornin’, hon.” Imayoshi called out without looking away from the TV, making both Kise and Aomine seize up in their seats for the directness of his voice. “Missed ya at karaoke after drinks last night. Hey, there’s coffee waitin’ for ya, buddy.”

“Aren’t you in today, Shou?” he growled back, sending Kise into even further shock. Next to him at the breakfast table Imayoshi checked his watch and nodded, then cleared himself up to leave, already in his uniform. There was something his collar was decorated with that Aomine’s wasn’t, Kise noticed.

“Funny, I was just ‘bout to leave. And hey, Kise-- remember what I said ‘bout your insurance, eh?”

“Yeah, thanks! I’ll look into it!” he smiled vapidly, “Ooh, and thanks for breakfast!”

“My pleasure. Later, folks.”

As the door clicked with his exit, Aomine looked across at Kise in confusion until he glanced away innocently, clutching his cup. “Whaaa-aat?”

“What were you talking about?”

“Nothing! I told him I was here to drop some things off, but then my car stalled in the parking-space and I couldn’t get home… What? _Whaaat_? You wanted me to tell the truth? Besides, since when is he ‘Shou’?”

“Name’s too damn long,” Aomine grunted as he sat across from him on the lounge’s smaller couch. 

“Oh, but that reminds me, it was kind of true. Here,” Kise said, picking up a tote bag he’d extracted from his car earlier and scooting closer to the end of the sofa to hold it out, “I kept meaning to give this back anyway, so. Thanks for the other day! I washed them so they’ll probably smell different, though!”

Halfway into his first contact with caffeine since emptying his guts, Aomine looked at him crustily, then took the bag and dropped it on the floor next to him. Curiosity got the better of him after a full sip and he pulled a shirt out from the bag, the one he’d lent to Kise on that journey home after the police office. He didn’t shift for a moment.

“Haven’t washed yours.”

“Aw, really? Well, that’s okay, I probably shouldn’t re-introduce it to my wardrobe for another season at least the way things are!”

“Aren’t you...” Aomine murmured, barely loud enough for Kise to hear over the chattering of the TV.

“Mm? What?”

Aomine seemed like he wanted to gesture or fidget with something but could settle for neither, and instead continued to frown at an indistinct spot on the carpet. “Aren’t you… mad at me for last night?”

Faced with such guilt emanating off the man, Kise felt awful -- not because of what had happened, but what had caused it to happen. Kise almost felt worse for having enjoyed it despite that. “N-No! I’m not, I mean-- like, you were drunk, right? And besides, I could have told you to stop if--”

“I hurt you.”

Kise squirmed on the couch. He couldn’t lie about the after-effects of what had been probably the roughest fuck of his life. “I mean, I’m a _little_ sore, but… but, you know, I get why you were upset, honestly!”

At that, Aomine looked up, and Kise saw how drained he looked. He must have spent most of the time in the bathroom beating himself up for it, he realised.

“It’s none of my business, Kise. You do what you want.” 

Panic flared up inside him. _Don’t give up on me!_ “I-It _is_ your business. If it bothers you that much that I saw someone--”

“That guy don’t count as a _someone_.”

Kise tried again, feeling worse by the minute. “Either way, I’ll break it off with him! Like I told you we don’t have anything else… there isn’t anything else between us, it isn’t like that.”

“You don’t…” Aomine sighed, staring at his knees like he was already tired of talking. “Don’t gotta change anything you’re doing. The problem’s with me.”

 _But you look miserable_ , Kise thought, refraining from saying it loud since it seemed anything personal like that would just dig him deeper into his guilty state. “No, no, really! I should’ve stopped when I started seeing you! Since… it’s Aominecchi, after all.”

Aomine looked up to frown at him then, a quizzical look that was far lighter than the hangover headache weighing down his knitted eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know,” Kise glanced away and back. He wished suddenly that he, too, had had a drink or eight last night and had some kind of excuse for a second one-night-stand with the same person instead of only achieving them by miscalculation, “‘Cause you… you’re serious about this stuff.”

“Ain’t _you_? Wait, forget I said that.” Aomine rubbed his forehead in preparation for the whiny complaint inevitably thrown his way.

“Hey, I can do serious too! I’m plenty serious and mature! I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t at least a _little_ serious about you, you know!”

In the silence of the apartment, Kise felt his face burning hotter with every passing second that Aomine didn’t reply.

“Uh-huh.” Aomine said, extremely deliberately, like he was weighing up those last few words.

“L-Look, um,” Kise babbled, “Everything with Shougo-kun is over. I quit. So you don’t have to-- worry about anything like that.”

“You sure?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah! It was never a big deal, honestly. Compared to you, he’s--”

It was Aomine’s turn to redden as Kise trailed off. It felt not only weird, but also rude to compare the two. Somewhere in his expression however Kise could see a little bud of pride forming. He cleared his throat.

“You gonna tell me?”

“Whaaat, really? I have to compare you when you’re sober first!” Kise huffed, and Aomine snickered dirtily under his breath -- the first smile he’d cracked since Kise had been at his side.

“Anyone else you’re seein’?”

Kise quickly thanked Momoi in his heart for breaking it off when she did. “No, not right now. A-and I’m clean.”

Aomine sighed. “Well, yeah, I heard about all _that_ stuff.”

“Huh?!” Kise felt like he’d been struck by an arrow, his pitch spiking. “Who said?”

“Tetsu. And everyone.”

 _Oh, right_ , Kise thought… _everyone_. So the alternative groupchat did exist.

“But who cares,” Aomine rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re going through some shit. Could’ve done worse.”

It didn’t help to settle the strange feeling of nervousness he had. The last person Kise wanted to mention his breakup or his rebound or whatever was sitting close enough to him that he could have simply reached across the gap between the sofas and touched his hand. At this point those reasons simply felt like an excuse; that he was doing this, any of this, out of some old longing or sadness for somebody else.

But, still. He’d take it if it meant Aomine wouldn’t hold it against him. It wasn’t pity, it was leverage.

“So… you’re not mad at _me_?” Kise ventured.

Aomine lay down on the couch to temper another surging headache and closed his eyes. “Not gonna kick you out.”

“Hmmm, really? Don’t you have work?” Kise made a show of making himself comfortable as if to tease him, but of course it wouldn’t have any effect if he wasn’t looking.

“No. You?”

“Day off.”

After a moment’s silence Aomine rolled over to look at him. He still looked awful but his eyes seemed clearer, lighter, like a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

“Stay a while.”

Kise clutched his coffee-cup tightly like a trophy.

“I’d love to,” he whispered back.

***

That had been unlike anything Kise had experienced for-- quite some time, really. Maybe for years, as sad as that sounded. Like, who went to their friend’s house to just _chat_ and hang out and get to know each other? Wasn’t that the kind of thing you did in a bar, or at a mixer or something? Visiting each other’s homes was something you did if you were dating, or fucking, or nosy.

...That was how Kise thought until that morning after with Aomine, curled up in their respective sofas as they’d chatted the morning away. He’d learned all sorts of things from Aomine through gentle persuasion and flirting over coffee, rather than his previous heavy-handed approach like jabbing a sleeping bear.

For example, that Aomine had failed the entry exam into Shinjuku’s police force once before he tried again and passed by two points.

Like, that Imayoshi had slid his way into the same programme slightly differently, earlier on, and was now technically his superior. That had nothing to do with the rent situation; “just happened”, Aomine said and moved on.

That the basketball court Aomine counted as his ‘local’ was over in Shibuya. Being in a different part of town meant it wasn’t local at all, Kise pointed out, but Aomine argued that it was close enough to run to so he was warmed up by the time he’d gotten there.

And… that Fridays were good for him. That they could give a game a shot this week.

Staring out of a cabin window to the cloudy skies passing by, Kise felt he couldn’t stand waiting for the end of the work-week to roll around knowing that was his best, and probably final, chance to see Aomine _like that_ before things got stale. Maybe that was a cruel way to see it; but he was just being realistic with his expectations, he reckoned, since it hadn’t taken long for him to stop hounding all the others with his need for a connection. Cutting out those visits to Haizaki’s had been easy, and although what he’d had with Momoi was special, he found he had just as much fun as he did before they ever got close. 

Even if it was _Aomine_ , he thought, he himself wasn’t suddenly going to change that drastically over a fling.

“Excuse me! Service!” a man’s voice called out from the cockpit teasingly, shocking Kise back to reality from his five-minute break in the cabin, the only break he was due to get for another hour in the air. So much for a little time to daydream. Sighing, he binned the half-empty packet of potato chips and necked the rest of his bottle of water before stepping through primly and politely into the cockpit where the pilot and co-pilot were waiting.

“Hi, hi, did you call?” Kise greeted sweetly although the co-pilot himself was anything but. He wasn’t as old as their veteran pilot with this airline, but he had enough years on Kise that it showed on his face exactly what he thought of a young highschool-graduate charming his way onto a commercial airline’s elite cabin crew and passing his first year of the job with flying colours. An old-fashioned guy like that. The pilot’s eyes firmly forward, the co-pilot smiled back over his shoulder at Kise.

“Yeah, nobody’s come to check on us in ages, what’re you girls doing out there?”

Kise could not abide the way he referred to them all as _girls_ even when he had another male flight attendant crewing with him. His colleagues were all older than him, too. The term sounded like they were call-girls. Hostess girls flitting around to serve him. “Oh, I was on my break. Looks like the trolley will come back in… say, about ten rows? They’re at business class right now!”

“You mean I can’t get table service from you?” he winked back.

He felt like puking. The flirting had been ramping up for a few weeks now. Part of him felt that if he didn’t take the brunt of it from him, he’d only harass his coworkers, but lately Kise was beginning to reach that breaking-point where his customer service mask would inevitably slip. This week, this week only had a few days left in it before he could have a really great time with Aomine, he told himself; he just had to get through this, put on a defensively polite face, think about his fun plans ahead...

“Sorry, you’re just going to have to wait! Customers are king, after all!”

“Hmph. Can’t even do something that simple... this crew really are stupid.”

Halfway through turning back to the cabin, Kise froze. He stepped closer to the cockpit where the co-pilot was already reaching for his headset, laughing with the captain.

“What did you say?” 

His tone grabbed both pilots’ attentions, but of course, only the one running his mouth was able to turn and look at him, the niceness dropped completely from Kise’s voice and his eyes cold. A look that the airline had never witnessed from their star attendant.

“Huh? You heard me. All you need to do is remember the demonstration and look pretty but you can’t even bring us drinks when we want ‘em? If you had a job where you actually used your brain…”

He trailed off as Kise stood directly behind him, a wild smile fixed on his face. Then he unleashed hell in his most charming voice, reserved only for nightmare passengers in business class.

“Oh, _really_? Is that so? All of us cabin crew are _stupid_ , I see, I see. Who cares about customers, anyway? It’s not like we can’t fly without them!” he said, chuckling as he leaned his weight on the back of the chair, “Then, since I’m so bad at my job… I guess I’ll just have to push myself harder and take _your_ job, hmmm? Mr. Co-pilot?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he groaned, the captain nudging him to stop if he knew what was good for him.

“Now that I think about it, I’m the perfect height within the requirements to fit in this seat! My eyesight’s good, and I was pretty on the ball with maths back in school. Being the team leader here just isn’t cutting it for me. This isn’t a bad idea! You’re _so_ smart.” Kise gushed, the idea gaining more and more traction in his head the more he considered it beyond the initial notion of knocking him down a peg, “Maybe that way I’ll finally be an equal in your eyes, _sir_.”

Then with a swift movement away from the pilots, Kise’s entire expression snapped back to customer-service niceness as he glanced back down the aisle, “Oh! The trolley’s back, why don’t you ask the others what you’d like? Or do you want to give me your request and I’ll tell them _everything you said?_ ”

“...”

He didn’t care how his behaviour looked, he never did. He had that luxury with being able to change his approach with the flick of a switch. And with the end of the week only a few days away, Kise was going to absolutely ensure that the rest of his work-days went by peacefully.

***

Aomine looked dumbfounded in the light of the sunset as he listened to the story. Finally, he frowned. “...So like that, you applied?”

“Yeah, it was a piece of cake! They have to consider me since it’s an internal application, anyway, though. My aptitude test and interview’s on Monday!”

He looked exhausted just listening to Kise’s peppy tone and tossed the basketball back to him, receiving it again right away with how sharp Kise’s motions were in his joy at finally being able to cut loose. “Worse reasons to switch career, I guess.”

Kise giggled. “Isn’t this the best way to challenge someone? Beating them at their own game?”

On the return Aomine swung, but didn’t let go of the ball, wearing an annoyed look. “Huhh? You think this guy is a _challenger_?”

“Oh, are you jealous? Don’t be, don’t be, he’ll probably quit once I do to avoid flying with me.”

“I don’t…” Aomine sulked before he passed back to him. Kise felt a flash of awkwardness; perhaps it was a little on the nose to make a joke about Aomine being jealous. He let the ball drop and bounce idly as he liked to do between passes, before deciding to quit the warm-up exercise just for the moment, dribbling it lightly at his side. Passing was never really Teikou’s style, anyway.

“You know, it’s crazy how we haven’t all gotten together to play since high school. We really should have, like, school reunion matches or something! Birthday matches like we did for Kurokocchi!”

Aomine gestured for the ball; Kise tossed it to him one-handedly, and just as swiftly, Aomine threw a lazy three-pointer from the exact spot he was standing, sinking it in the hoop with its jangling, rusted chain-netting. 

“I dunno about that.” He muttered as he walked away to fetch the ball again. It was Kise’s turn to stick his hands in his pockets and sigh, although he quickly stopped as soon as he realised he’d picked that habit up by mistake. For every little thought that Aomine revealed, he always seemed to clam up again even more firmly than before. Just when he felt like they were getting somewhere. 

“You don’t like it when we don’t have an opponent? Like, an opposing team?” Kise laughed.

“Why d’you wanna play in a team?” Aomine replied, his back to him as he scored another shot with an underarm throw. 

“Why wouldn’t you? It’s fun! Especially when we play three-on-three.” The ball dropped through the hoop again. “I get to see everybody’s strengths and play against them…”

“Nothin’ the others can do that we haven’t seen before.”

“Is that why you’re acting like I’m not here?”

Aomine turned to look at him then, Kise striding towards the faded centre circle. They’d warmed up together and done those passing exercises just for a laugh, but it hadn’t been much of a game so far, unless Kise counted the four shots Aomine had scored all on his own without so much effort as a lay-up. 

“Thought you came here to talk,” Aomine said, carrying the ball as he approached. It was clear as day on his face that something in his tone had grabbed his attention, or perhaps the look on his face-- ‘relaxed’ wasn’t quite right, even if Kise felt like his cheeriness could take a back seat. Something about the court, something about watching Aomine’s effortless hoops had that effect on him.

“Is that how it looks?” Kise couldn’t hold back a chuckle, “I asked you here to play, obviously! It’s better than talking. At least, that’s how it is with you, Aominecchi.”

Aomine raised an eyebrow and threw him the ball. “Is that right?”

“It’s not exactly a secret.” Kise smiled as he caught it. “One-on-one? Like the old days?”

Aomine held his gaze as he crossed over to the centre circle, taking his place behind the chalked-in line opposite Kise. Although the only sound was the whirring buzz of cicadas from the trees beyond the fenced-off court, Kise imagined the roar of a crowd like a ghost from the past. The setting sun blazing its last few rays of sunshine over the roofs of the surrounding neighbourhood could have been the beam lighting of the gymnasium. Looking back into Aomine’s focused eyes, he saw he felt it, too. They didn’t need to say anything.

The moment only lingered long enough for each of them to take a breath before Kise sprinted aside with the ball, Aomine tearing after him like his shadow. Of course he knew he couldn’t break past him or outrun him for long, but it wasn’t futile if Aomine had to run. Three steps away from being cut off by Aomine, Kise leapt and tried his best for a fadeaway -- just low enough for Aomine to jump and knock it off-course, but otherwise, Kise reckoned as he landed and watched the ball bounce across the tarmac, he could have made the shot just fine. He didn’t feel rusty at all with Aomine on his heels like that. He laughed, looping around in a gentle jog to collect it.

“Well? How do I compare to how you thought I’d be?”

Aomine scoffed. “You thought I guessed?”

Because he knew he’d kept sharp somehow, even if they never played. _Of course he knew_ , Kise thought. There was nothing sweet about it. “You just believe in me that much, huh?”

Aomine didn’t say anything, simply taking his place back at the centre-circle, waving off Kise’s gestured offer of the ball this time since he’d had possession before. The handicaps were all for Kise. What was it Aomine had said when he’d asked him if he still played? _‘Not that much. Not against anybody.’_

Was that out of a lack of a worthy opponent? Really, with his old teammates still hanging around him, each staying sharp in their own way? Then again, how could somebody who didn’t belong to a team, in any organisation, in any kind of league, possibly find an opponent? It was a team sport, after all.

Kise, on the other hand, had made sure to stay sharp -- not that Kasamatsu expected him to, per se, but it would have caused more problems if he didn’t while they were dating than if he simply continued to practice the way he’d done practically every day since joining Teikou’s basketball club. Even without the routine of school and practice and training-camps and tournaments, basketball had become a habit in a way that no other sport could have ever become for him. Not second-nature. More like, a banal routine. It stuck in his system the way he remembered to floss every day with the logic that he was always going to be seen by people in some capacity: photoshoots, school, the airline. And so because he had access to Kasamatsu’s college with its easily-accessible courts, he practised.

Basketball wasn’t an exciting game to Kise on its own.

Aomine was solitary, but without a team, he was starting to let it die in him, too.

“Don’t overthink it,” Aomine said quietly, holding his hands out as Kise considered his next move, “That’s not your style.”

Kise feinted and dribbled backwards, quickly changing his route across the edge of the court to aim for some skewed three-pointer. “You think I have a style, now?”

The shot, a clear arc from a flawless jump, dropped immaculately through the hoop: Midorima’s very own. Aomine didn’t even try to block it. He simply stood shaking his head and smirking. “Told you it didn’t need thinking about.”

Kise could help grinning. That already set them at an even 1-1 score. Not bad for his first match-up alone with Aomine. 

“Warm-up’s over.” Aomine threw him the ball from across the court.

“Huh, you’re resetting the score to zero?”

Opposite him, Aomine raised an eyebrow. “You want that one point that bad? I gave it to you.”

Annoyingly, he was right, and Kise’s pride felt at odds with itself. “I’ll win it back fairly, then. With my own hands.”

“Try it,” Aomine grinned. A familiar, warm smile.

Simply _talking_ would never have had this effect on him.

***

The chainlink fence jingled as the basketball bounced off it from a missed rebound, the last opportunity to swing the even score of 30-30. Most of Kise’s scores felt like backhanded compliments or mishandlings rather than genuine one-ups on his opponent, but then again, apparently neither of them had practised enough lately to be able to successfully block another tall Teikou alumnus. It was an exhausting battle that had to come to an end somehow.

Beneath Kise’s back the fence creaked and gave way gently in its poorly-fastened posts, easing under his weight as Aomine sank against him, kissing, framing his hands by Kise’s shoulders. The heat of the summer evening was nothing compared to the energy dancing beneath their fingertips, the sweat rolling down Aomine’s back, the flush in Kise’s cheeks with every slow roll of Aomine’s tongue against his, the scrape of his teeth on his lip that made Aomine sigh into his mouth. The tension bubbling over was inevitable from the way their steals and blocks became more and more daring; grazing past one another, arms and legs crossing and pushing to wrestle for a rebound. As if they would be satisfied from their bodies colliding simply within the constraints of a sport. Kise let out a gentle moan as Aomine ranged down his neck, still with the audacity to worry in the back of his mind if he smelled bad or tasted weird even as he pushed hot kisses to the skin there, bearing the leftover designer cologne he’d tested out for a customer on the earlier flight. Aomine didn’t seem to mind, he noticed gratefully.

After a sweet few minutes of the chainlink buckling and digging into Kise’s back, Aomine’s hands touched the bare skin of his hips under his shirt and Kise finally spoke, breathily, “Should we go somewhere?”

Aomine made a noise -- something like ‘not here, huh’, muffled in his neckline -- and withdrew, although he kept a firm hand on his hip. “Mine.”

If Kise was already smoldering, that practically set him on fire, stuttering wide-eyed. “Wh-- what--”

“Come to mine,” Aomine growled, embarrassed, and led him beyond the court back to Kise’s car; _as if I’ll be able to concentrate enough to drive_ , he thought, but didn’t resist, faced with Aomine’s silent, flustered direction. If it was only a few hours later into nightfall he might have considered just making out right there on the court.

Adjusting from public to private was a challenge between their snatched kisses, touching, fumbling all the way from the court to the parking-lot, stopping every few steps up the stairwell to kiss and tug at each other’s shirts, waistbands-- Aomine could hardly turn the key in the lock for Kise’s magnetic pull, kissing him hungrily. This, this was what he wanted -- sober, lucid from the game, Aomine’s energy aligned perfectly with his own. Wanting one another. They stumbled into the hallway of his apartment, the way Aomine seemed to want to carry Kise’s weight as he pushed against him in the battle to slide _his_ hands up _his_ shirt first, pull it off over his head _first_. With the door kicked shut behind them Aomine let Kise pull him closer until they were wrapped in one another’s arms, tucked against the hallway wall and furiously kissing, giving up on the niceties until they were stuck in a stalemate between Aomine slipping the tip of his tongue over Kise’s lip, Kise aiming to nip at him in return. They paused, panting, Kise’s hands splayed across Aomine’s chest.

“Take this off,” Kise whispered, and with a nod Aomine began pulling off his sweaty sports tanks, Kise following shortly and colliding again with Aomine’s back to the wall this time, Kise taking the opportunity to kiss his neck, moving down his throat, the underside of his adam’s apple--

“Kise,” he murmured, sliding his hand through Kise’s hair, and although he braced himself to have it tugged and gripped the way Haizaki did -- the only way he’d had his hair touched in weeks -- Aomine never did, just occasionally rubbing strands of hair between his fingers like he was distracted by its softness. Kise sucked on the skin he’d been kissing, leaving a mark on the join of his clavicle, then matched Aomine’s forced, quiet exhale with a gasp as he grabbed his ass, hard like he was trying to feel him through the shorts.

 _This is it_ , he thought. Everything he wanted. They didn’t need to talk like this; he was right after all, that basketball would line them up just perfectly. This didn’t need to be complicated or heavy. Aomine seemed to understand him exactly, from the way he rolled his hips against him while pulling Kise closer like he needed him to feel how hard he was, like he wanted to know Kise was the same, running his hand up and down his ribs and for once, Kise didn’t feel ticklish beneath such a warm hand that could well have been a beam of sunlight rippling over his skin. He sighed, pushing forward for another kiss, stroking down Aomine’s chest and pushing the pads of his fingertips against his stomach to feel the hard muscle beneath. He’d seen those abs when his shirt flipped up on a landing, noticed the pull-up bar installed in his apartment.

“Looks like running isn’t all you do,” Kise teased gently, whispering against his mouth with a smile, to which Aomine huffed and grabbed beneath Kise’s thigh, lifting him up an inch, slipping his knee between his parted legs.

“Could carry you,” he said, and when Kise moaned softly at the nudging against his hard-on, Aomine wrapped his arm around his waist and, experimentally, tried to lift him. He managed it with ease, Kise instantly winding his legs around Aomine’s thighs like a trained acrobat, bracing his hands against his shoulders. “...How are you so light?”

“So I can do this,” Kise half-joked. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t done it before. Aomine looked at him hungrily and leaned up for a kiss, Kise dipping down to meet him with gasps and moans between kisses as Aomine continued to hold him up, hold him tightly while grinding his hips, pushing until Kise could feel him growing harder, thicker beneath his pants--

Just then, the light flicked on in the darkened hallway with the click of a switch and Aomine and Kise instantly froze in place, staring sidelong at the source of the sound as though they were expecting a bear to have broken in. Instead of a wild animal, crossing the lounge was Imayoshi which was _worse_ , his hair messy and askew and the rest of him clad in what Kise assumed was a pyjama-shirt over baggy boxer-shorts, almost feeling his way around the furniture as he wandered from his bedroom to the kitchen. Aomine and Kise didn’t dare move or breathe while the sound of running water filled the room. As the seconds passed Kise could feel himself slipping very slightly where his sweat loosened Aomine’s grip on his thighs. He clung on tighter to Aomine like a cat, causing a muffled grunt of pain to hiss out between his teeth. What a terrible coincidence, but Kise almost felt like he couldn’t complain, already practically riding Aomine’s dick if it wasn’t for the layers of fabric separating them.

It felt like an age yet eventually, the flatmate shuffled out of the kitchen, clutching a glass of water. It was as though he was sleepwalking, eyes barely cracked beneath his ruffled bangs to see his way back. As he turned the corner, Kise felt Aomine relax very slightly beneath him.

“Do you think he saw us?” Kise whispered.

“Don’t think so. No glasses.” Aomine murmured back, carefully letting Kise touch the ground again, their bared torsos sliding down against one another with panicked sweat.

“That don’t mean I can’t hear,” Imayoshi’s deadpan voice echoed from his bedroom, then followed the click of his door. 

In front of him Aomine seemed to deflate, wearing an exhausted expression. With a wave of fear threatening to wash over him at the opportunity quickly slipping out of his grip Kise stroked his hands up his chest, cupping Aomine’s face with his thumbs stroking on his jawline.

“We’ll just be quiet,” he insisted, dipping in to kiss him, but Aomine didn’t seem to want to respond, the same wave extinguishing his fire, too; his hands stayed firm on Kise’s hips, one thumb tapping anxiously at the dip in the bone. Between them there hung a sense of defeat.

“Forgot he has a midnight start,” Aomine sighed, barely audibly as though talking to himself.

“It’s okay, like I said, we’ll just--”

“No-- sorry, Kise,” With a controlled motion he pushed Kise away ever so slowly like it was painful for him, peeling away a second skin. It felt just as destructive to Kise, too, resting his hands on his forearms. He didn’t understand what the problem was. Couldn’t they just continue? It was the tiniest distraction, what they each wanted was right here, they were each so ready, they were already--

“Why not? We finally…” his tone was more of a plea than a complaint and Aomine met it with guilt written all over his features. It was heartbreaking when just minutes earlier he’d been so riled up, paving the way to the bedroom, grinding against him.

“You deserve better than this,” Aomine breathed, “Than creepin’ around.”

“That’s not how I feel about it, you know, Aominecchi, it’s just your flatmate.” Kise schooled his tone away from pleading, away from annoyance, but he couldn’t avoid either. He was so achingly close to his goal… To see Aomine like that, to have him see him like that, _vulnerable--_

“Again. Let’s do this again. I promise.” Before he could complain further Aomine dragged Kise into a tight hug, burying his face in his neck. With those arms wrapped around his waist, suddenly Kise felt the weight of the decision he was making; the person he was tangling himself up with.

No wonder Momoi and Kuroko tried to prepare him for what he would encounter if he went for Aomine. He was so tenderly sensitive to anything that made him _aware_ of what he was doing, like a mere breeze was enough to tip him over the edge. Overly self-aware. Self-doubting. Self-conscious? Neither were things that Kise related to. He was so confident that he left those things by the wayside long ago.

Trying to elicit a reply out of him, Aomine pressed a long, solid kiss to the join of Kise’s neck until he sighed in pleasure despite the frustration welling up with him with every second passing by that Aomine wasn’t making out with him threatening to drown out any nice memories or nice hopes he could hold onto for the next occasion they might have like this.

“Okay. Okay, but come to mine next time,” Kise sighed, summoning every shred of patience he had left not to sound as disappointed as he felt standing there with a raging boner, mere metres from Aomine’s bed. So infuriatingly close to his goal. “We won’t get interrupted. Okay?”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Aomine said almost pitifully, drawing away to unlock the door. “Next time for sure.”

A smile flickered across Kise’s face; he couldn’t help still trying to maintain some kind of facade, even if they both knew it wasn’t that genuine. But he wanted to make himself believe that there was a next time that would be even better. Fake it ‘til you make it. Aomine looked like he wanted to return the smile but couldn’t bring his facial muscles to obey.

Kise paused on his way out of the door to turn and glance at him. “Call me?” 

Right away Aomine leaned in to kiss him before he withdrew back into the dark of the hallway. “I promise.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kasamatsu appears!!! Kise and Aomine have to deal with BEING KNOWN. Kise is trying so, so hard.

Aomine did call him, true to his word, but the next early-morning jogging-date he tenderly probed for happened to fall exactly on a date when Kise had an early flight. Like, 4am early. It was domestic at least, so he could sleep in his own bed that night, but that wrote off the day before and the day after all the same. That put the next day back to the end of the week-- and by that point, they’d be due another evening basketball date instead. Right?

“Now I’m the one who’s busy,” Aomine grumbled over the phone as they tried to straighten out their schedules.

“Couldn’t you just commute from my place?” Kise laughed, semi-jokingly, but he couldn’t ignore the fluttering of his heart in his chest when the words came out. Having Aomine over. That was a bold move. Just as expected, Aomine made an awkward little murmur of a sound, and before he could reply Kise added “Hahaha, just kidding, that’d be a long way for you anyway!”

“You’re the next ward over, right?”

Kise’s breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t expecting him to remember his address or to actually pick up on it and defensively reacted with sulking. “I-I’m not dropping you off at work at 3am or whenever your shift starts…”

“I’d take a train, stupid.”

“Eh?! Is that okay, walking there in the dark?”

“If you’re worried I’ll go in uniform.”

“For the _wrong ward_ , Aominecchi!”

They agreed to disagree and settled on a basketball date on Friday again. Another week to plough through before it, Kise noted dully, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d made some kind of mistake, having dealt a particularly risky hand and instantly trying to take it back. It was a weird feeling. As if Aomine had seen him naked.

Even though by all rights he could probably piece together exactly what that looked like, it wasn’t the same as witnessing it in the flesh, in one go…

Rather than examining it Kise shoved the feeling to one side and practically ignored the big blocked-out section on his calendar for Friday night. Last time he’d spent the whole week fantasising, but this time, he felt weirdly nervous. 

Of course, it was meant to be a make-or-break moment, wasn’t it? That was his goal, after all -- to see Aomine as he was in intimacy, to have that connection with him, before he called it a day and was content with the experiences of the world he’d apparently been denied in all those years in a long-term monogamous relationship?!

So… why did he feel like so much was riding on it?

It was just meant to be a fling, that was all.

Just a fling.

***

Kasamatsu’s student digs looked just the same as he remembered, bar a few posters having been moved or replaced. And, maybe tangentially, half of his belongings being packed into cardboard boxes stacked here and there around the floor. It really highlighted just how small the room was once the shelves were being taken down and the wardrobe emptied. Good thing he’d made a few hours’ time to come visit to collect those things he’d mentioned he’d found, Kise thought; something had told him a drive-by pickup would have been horribly tasteless. His ex deserved better than that.

“I really appreciate you helping me move out, Kise.” Kasamatsu said as he carried a box out of the room and into the hallway. Kise broke away from his reverie to shine a sunny smile at him.

“Haha, more like, I may as well, right? Moving house is really exhausting even when you have a moving company!”

He raised an eyebrow. “You got a moving company when you went to Nakano?”

“I have a lot of stuff,” Kise pouted.

“Of course you do…” Kasamatsu sighed, then handed him a half-empty box.

“Oh, you want me to tape this one up too, senpai? It’s not even full…”

“No, dummy, it’s your stuff,” Kasamatsu quickly dropped the irritated tone he always was too hasty to pick up whenever Kise said something before actually taking in the facts of the situation, and looked at him properly. “I found it while tidying, so…”

“O-Oh. Okay.”

In front of him, Kasamatsu seemed awkward as he stood, then looked a little pained. “Do you wanna go through it? I wasn’t sure if…”

“You don’t mind?”

“Since when do you care what--” Kasamatsu sighed. He looked like he was having trouble relaxing. “It’s fine, it’s not like we’re in a rush. Um. Tell me if there’s anything I mistook for yours.”

His heart in his throat, Kise nodded slowly and took a seat on the edge of the bed as his old captain moved around the room efficiently packing up and taping boxes. The silence was occasionally pierced by the squeak of a marker pen when he wrote on the cardboard.

Like some kind of mysterious box of Urashima Taro’s, Kise hesitated to look in it for a moment, then he delicately sorted through the items that had been so carefully folded and packed inside. There were a few shirts -- box tanks, sleeveless shirts he recalled were basketball practice tops. He’d probably left them thinking he could pick them up after a spin in the laundromat. But then his taste changed so quickly he must have forgotten them and simply bought others. Plus, a handkerchief, a travel-bottle of shampoo, a half-used tube of whitening toothpaste…

 _Huh?_ He really left that here, he thought. Because this was meant to be a home away from home, being with his boyfriend. Of course it made sense to leave things here from time to time; it wasn’t like carrying your camper-kit with you as a flight attendant. The visits were to a fixed place. He pressed one of the shirts to his face and took a deep breath. The scent of Kasamatsu’s fabric softener, some sensitive-skin clean fragrance, the scent he picked up when they hugged hello.

Kise teared up.

“If there’s anything you wanna throw out, I have a trash bag over here,” Kasamatsu called from the hallway as he re-entered the room, sweating from the manual work; Kise quickly scrubbed at his face and swallowed to dissipate the tears and beamed at him, clutching the box in his lap.

“Hahaha, like, maybe? It’s been a while since I used this shampoo, I’m not gonna lie, it ended up making my hair greasy…”

“Geez, you and Moriyama don’t talk about anything else…” Kasamatsu huffed lightly, hands on his hips, then passed him a box crammed with books. “Do me a favour and tape this one up too.”

“Oof, heavy! You have to read this much in sports college?!”

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who only buys magazines!”

“Pffft, I buy photobooks, too…” In his pocket his phone suddenly started to vibrate demandingly; Kise checked the screen, spotted Haizaki’s name, and switched the phone to silent mode so he could deal with it later before pocketing it again and starting with the tape-dispenser.

“Speaking of that guy, though,” Kasamatsu said as he sat cross-legged on the ground to mark up some more boxes. “Moriyama and the others said they were gonna do a housewarming at the new place. Well-- not 'said' to me. More like they can’t keep their loud traps shut in the hallway. Especially Hayakawa…”

“That guy never changes…” Kise laughed gently.

Kasamatsu gave a half-hearted smile then looked at Kise firmly. “You’d be welcome too, if you want.”

“Oh--” Kise started replying without fully-forming his answer, and when he thought about it for longer than a millisecond, he realised he was already gearing himself up to decline. To say that he was too busy like a kneejerk reaction. As if he’d convinced himself already that nobody from Kaijou would ever want to be in a room with him now that he’d broken their Captain’s heart. For the first time, Kise realised that he _cared_ if he never saw the others ever again. “I mean, if…”

Kasamatsu resumed writing on a box. “...I understand if you can’t. What with your work.”

“No, I-- I mean, if you don’t mind! Like, if it’s okay that it’s me!” Kise burst out, cheeks flushing, “I can help… set things up. If you’re really okay with me being there.”

For a moment, Kasamatsu watching him with a surprised look on his face, it felt as though he’d confessed all over again. But this time he wasn’t pleading, the way he begged for him not to turn him down back then; he was carefully testing the boundaries, and he couldn’t possibly assume that the answer would still be a _yes_.

What Kasamatsu thought of him made a difference, it turned out.

“...Yeah, honestly. What’re you talking about, Kise?” Kasamatsu gave him a nudge with his foot-- the softest toned-down kick he could bring himself to do -- as he carried the box over to the entrance of his room, “I’m inviting you because I want you to come celebrate with everyone. I wouldn’t if I didn’t think it’d be good to have you there. Alright?”

“R-Right,” Kise repeated, hanging his head as his blush died away, distracting himself by lowering the box of books to the ground. He felt silly for having these fluttering feelings all over again in his senpai’s room, but it dawned on him that this was just how it felt to be… believed in. To be wanted, a little, even as just one part of a whole. That was what his captain had instilled in him all that time ago; that every player was important. Whether an ace or benched, there was no useless member of the team. Maybe he’d given up on the idea of them, but they hadn’t given up on him -- they were still waiting for him. Kasamatsu, too, was waiting for him. He wrung his hands into the bedsheets where he sat. Kasamatsu came back into the room, mentally tallying up the remaining items and boxes before his eyes fell on Kise on the bedcovers.

“Oh, good point, those have gotta go, too. You mind packing them up into the bag over there?”

“Sure, sen-- um, Kasamatsu.”

Behind a stack of boxes, Kasamatsu nearly laughed. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

Kise found himself flustered. “U-Um!”

“Yeah?”

“Are you, um,” Kise realised his question was going to be stupid before he even said it. “Are you dating again?”

“What the hell?” Kasamatsu bonked him on the head with a karate chop, a solid one this time.

“Yeek! Ow!”

“Where do you get off asking something like… like that!” When he looked up, clutching his skull defensively, Kasamatsu was glancing away, his cheeks reddening. 

_Ah_. So he was already moving on? Kise felt a strange sense of relief despite being so ashamed at wanting to know. Was the bed he was sitting on already welcoming another person? Was there somebody Kasamatsu called by their first name, too? He didn’t need to know, but he couldn’t help wanting to measure himself by a senpai’s standards, somehow, like his own standards could have a parallel in another person’s life. He was surprised; he’d thought that feeling had died long ago.

“Sorry, I was just curious, you know… since it’s been nearly two months…”

“I’m not,” he breathed, “I thought I should… take a break.”

Kise scrambled for a response. “Ahh, it’s like that… But, that’s gotta be hard when there are so many attractive people on campus, right? Since it’s a sports college and the girls on the volleyball team are--”

Kasamatsu chopped his head again, flustered. “Grow up! I’ve been focusing on graduating.”

“Okay, okay, I get it! Eek, no, you’ll raise a bump!”

Frowning, Kasamatsu cleared his throat and looked aside. “There might be a guy. I don’t know.”

Kise didn’t know what to say to that despite having asked. After a silent moment Kasamatsu wiped his hand down his face and glanced back at him.

“I’d ask about you too, but you’re probably in high demand.”

“No way, everybody I work with is sick of me,” Kise laughed, “Besides, you know I don’t get serious that fast!”

“Hmmm. I guess that’s true.” 

The two of them exhaled gently as though relieved that the conversation had finally come to an end. Kise was the first to start giggling, trying to stifle it beneath his hand, then before long they were both laughing in soft breaths that filled the steadily-emptying room, like he was just moving in for the first time. Kise remembered that first day on campus like it was yesterday. Eventually, Kasamatsu extended a hand.

“A-aaahhh, don’t chop me…!”

But he placed his palm gently atop Kise’s head and ruffled his hair. Beneath his touch Kise held his breath without complaining, gazing up at his captain above him like a bewildered puppy. 

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” Kasamatsu said, smiling softly, “I’m always here to listen.”

Kise looked up at him, where he was smoothing and stroking his hair down so tenderly, and instead of the rebounding affection he worried he’d feel, he only saw a reliable person, a wonderful person, a person who didn’t want to kick him out of his life now that they were done being an item, and something in him felt settled. Put to rest. Like he could breathe easy, finally.

“Sure,” was all he could smile back in response, swept away with relief. He couldn’t name the specific feeling, but he wanted to hold onto it as long as he could.

***

Thursday rolled around sooner than Kise thought it would, the days in between crammed with daily domestic flights throughout Japan, and even he felt rushed off his feet as he half-jogged through the door of Maji Burger and scanned the semi-busy restaurant until he saw Aomine waving him over at a table several booths over from their usual spot. 

“Hey, everyone! Sorry I’m late!” he breathed, smiling while he unloaded his bag beneath the booth table and leapt into the free seat between Momoi and Murasakibara. The half of the table who were currently eating greeted him with grunts of acknowledgement through bites of burger.

“Evening, Kise. Here, I told you he’d arrive soon enough,” Akashi smiled pleasantly, wiping salt from his fingers.

“It’s rare that you’re late! We were starting to wonder where you were,” Momoi passed Kise a bottle of water she’d already picked up for him. Kise smiled at her in thanks as he cracked it open, drinking it before he even took off his sunglasses.

“Ew, Se-chin’s sweaty,” Murasakibara remarked from next to him, bumping his elbows -- not aggressively, simply as a by-product of his limbs being so long as well as being crammed into the tiny booth designed for four friends, not six ex-athletes and a lady commanding a fair amount of personal space.

“Eh, do I smell?! I know I ran but I put on extra antiperspirant…”

“Was it car trouble again?” Kuroko asked from across the table, and opposite him Aomine wore a strange look like he was working very very hard not to say anything.

“Eheh, well, I actually took the train today--”

“Uwahh, embracing the salaryman life.”

“Just today!” Kise huffed as he got his wallet out and stared far-off to the illuminated menus above the order points. “It was easier to get to the interview by train, somehow, the toll booths were too--”

“An interview?” Momoi echoed from beside him, eyebrows peaking in surprise.

“Yeah, he finally realised the recycled cabin air is bad for his skin,” Aomine snickered across the table. Kise shot him a slightly irritated pout.

“I wouldn’t have expected you to quit the role so soon, in fact,” Midorima remarked coolly over his drink, setting it down and instantly picking up a rice-ball-shaker the moment his hand was free again, his lucky item for the day, “Even if it is you, Kise.”

“I’m not quitting! Wow, let me sit down for two seconds, would you?! I’m applying to train as a pilot! Aominecchi was the only one I told, anyway.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table, broken swiftly by Murasakibara humming thoughtfully with a mouthful of fries. He chewed loudly then swallowed.

“So like, did you pass, or?”

Kise huffed to attempt to come off more frustrated with all the questions than actually, genuinely, tentatively nervous, the way he’d felt ever since he’d bowed his thanks and goodbyes and dashed out of the airline’s head office. “I don’t know yet! They’ll tell me on Monday, they said, then we’ll know if I get accepted onto the programme!”

Akashi offered a gentle smile of sympathy. “No wonder you’re worried. You prefer instant results, don’t you, Kise?” 

Kise laughed it off; he didn’t think that his worry showed, or at least he was praying that it didn’t show. “I mean, anybody would be nervous in my situation, right? Like, Akashicchi, you get it when you submit an essay or something, don’t you?”

“Of course. However, I do think there’s a difference in how the two of us approach the concept of not knowing. You wouldn’t have told us if you thought you couldn’t do it.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong about that, but…” Kise sat back, folding his arms.

“Mine-chin knew first, though, huh,” Murasakibara murmured through a new mouthful of fries and Kise wondered how exactly he was meant to escape this situation, sandwiched between him and Momoi who looked like she wanted to pin him down and ask exactly what was going on between him and Aomine, a sentiment that Kise could feel from everyone surrounding the table, in varying degrees. Kise just wanted to know why Murasakibara was refusing to let go of that tidbit; was it revenge? Or was he usually this gossipy and Kise never noticed? 

“Ahahaha, well. Murasakibaracchi, can you let me out so I can order?”

“Ehh? But I’m eating...”

“When _aren’t_ you eating? C’mon, pretty please?”

“It’s ‘cause I don’t gossip,” Aomine sighed, shrugging over his burger like the issue couldn’t concern him less. “Any of you guys would’ve spilled.”

“Yeah, exactly! Aominecchi’s reliable with that kind of thing,” Kise said as he edged out between his teammates after a gentle tussle. Aomine was at the end of the row, and he sandwiched Kise’s legs between his own under the table, running a hand up his thigh. He glared at him to silently demand to let him go but Aomine smirked to himself and avoided his gaze.

“A commercial pilot,” Midorima said, almost to himself, despite never having spoken aloud without purpose in his life, so of course it was pointed, “You do know that requires some years of studying.”

Kise rolled his eyes, struggling to wrench himself out of Aomine’s playful grip, a hand balanced on the bench seating behind him. “Believe it or not, I did my research! Aominecchi, let me through, c’mon--”

Mursakibara fake-retched. “Ew, and they’re flirting, too.”

“Huh?!” Aomine and Kise stared at him aghast, and Aomine let go of Kise’s legs so fast he nearly tripped over with how strongly he was trying to pry himself free, letting out a squeak as he stumbled. So, maybe it _was_ flirting! Maybe it _wasn’t_! Either way, hearing the accusation out loud was terrifying for both of them. They’d hardly come to terms with whatever it was they were doing when they were alone.

“Shut up, Murasakibara. His fat legs just got stuck,” Aomine argued quickly, frowning and going back to his burger like nothing had happened, but Kise whipped around, incensed.

“Fat?! You’re the one with huge thighs--”

“Huuunnh? Didn’t seem to mind my muscles when--” Aomine quickly clammed up, slapping a hand over his own mouth before he glanced away from the table, burning up. Murasakibara looked paler, like he was actually about to vomit.

“Honestly, it’s the total opposite of last time,” Momoi sighed, looking at them with concern. "Are you fighting? Or... is it like Mukkun said?"

“I-I’m going to order!” Kise stammered and dashed away to the counter. Kuroko stood up, leaving Aomine alone on the end of the booth bench.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he said, although the table could easily watch him catch up to Kise in the order queues instead of passing by him to the toilets. He looked like he was on a mission. Kise hardly noticed him sneak up at his side for how occupied he was trying to dispel his blush. It took a few seconds of breathing exercises and fanning at his face for him to calm down enough to finally notice his friend at his elbow.

“Waugh?!”

“I wasn’t trying to shock you, Kise-kun.” Kuroko said measuredly.

“I- I know that! You don’t even have to try! Gosh…” he breathed, struggling to relax.

“Is everything okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, I…” Kise folded his arms, trying to shift his nervousness into concern to reflect right back at Kuroko as he looked down at him. “Yeah, do I… seem like I’m not okay?”

Kuroko shifted, glancing ahead as they moved forward a place in line. “Not particularly. A little different, maybe.”

“I mean, I’ve kinda had a weird week, I guess,” Kise sighed, “The first interview was on… Monday? Then my exercise schedule went out of whack and it was a week of domestic flights, like, a _week_! Can you imagine? No wonder salarymen get so stressed out commuting five days a week like that! And then I went to help Kasamatsu-senpai with his moving-house, and the assessment today as well had, like, _homework_ to do for it…”

“At least you’re as talkative as ever. I could almost have been worried.”

“Gee, Kurokocchi, you could throw a little more sympathy my way from time to time, I wouldn’t mind…!”

“How’s everything with Aomine-kun?”

“I--” Kise burned red again, just as he’d managed to put out that fire. “A-A-Are you trying to trick me into saying something I shouldn’t?”

“Depends on if you’re doing something you shouldn’t. But I can’t tell you what not to do.” Kuroko shrugged. Inside Kise his emotions roiled, conflicting between wanting Kuroko to take more of an interest in him, ask him more, connect more, to tell Kuroko about everything that was happening because it was so thrilling when it wasn’t stressful, this thing where he was seeing Aomine and Aomine was paying attention to him-- but then, also, he couldn’t admit it to a single soul. Because then, that made it real. The fact that he’d been dancing around him for nearly a month now and Aomine still didn’t seem that close to simply sleeping with him and bringing an end to his need to fulfil that one desire. It didn’t injure his ego, as such. But it _did_ make him feel uncertain of himself and of what he was doing, and that in itself was a level of discomfort Kise was not familiar with. Chewing on his lip, he broke away as they moved to the front of the queue and placed his order at light-speed. They stood aside to wait, both for his combo set and Kuroko’s milkshake top-up. Kise stared into the distance at the repaired soda machine before murmuring, gently, to his friend.

“Ummm, if this was a romance drama, I feel like this is the part where you tell me really seriously, something like, ‘if you break his heart I’ll break your bones’...”

“You took the words right out of my mouth, Kise-kun.”

“Ehhh?” he felt close to tears now, crocodile tears threatening to jump out on command. “For real? B-Because I believe you could totally manage that, Kurokocchi--”

“I’m kidding. Although I could enlist help for it, since it’s for a friend, after all,” Kuroko looked at him cautiously, “Before, I asked you if you were serious about what you were doing. Can I ask if you are?”

Kise awkwardly fiddled with his earring, arms folded. “I think so. Or, put it this way -- if I wasn’t, I probably wouldn’t pay attention to him so much…”

Kuroko leaned forward to pick up his refilled milkshake which gave the cashier a fright when she turned around and it was no longer on the counter. “That’s what I thought, but I wanted to hear it from you.”

“Hey, isn’t that kind of cheeky of you, Kurokocchi? Oh, yes, ticket 15, that’s mine! Thanks!” Kise picked up his tray, an extra milkshake added into the order from the cashier who’d thought she’d just forgotten to prepare it, “Like, making me say it?”

"It's just a hunch, but I feel like you couldn't lie to me, Kise-kun."

The hits just kept coming, didn't they. Kise cracked a weak smile. "You're just teasing me now."

"You deserve it," Kuroko said after a long sip of his new drink. It was just deadpan enough to send a mild thrill up Kise's spine, even if it was tinged with fear as well as awe.

"Are you gonna tell anyone?" he asked hesitantly before they approached the table.

"No, I won't." Kuroko said, but before Kise could breathe out all of his sigh of relief he glanced back at him over his shoulder, the tip of the straw resting on his lower lip, "If they can't guess just by looking at the two of you, they don't deserve to know."

***

By the time Aomine arrived at the streetball court Kise was already waiting and itching to play, tapping the toe of his sneakers on the cemented edges of the tarmac the way he did when he had just a little too much pent-up energy to contain without trying to root it like some kind of earth-rod. Someone like him simply soaked up the energy that crackled around any kind of playing-field. 

“Hey,” Aomine said, approaching as languidly as ever despite Kise practically vibrating like an excitable dog the moment he’d spotted him through the fence at the far end of the court along the neighbourhood square. “Brought your own, huh.”

Kise toted his own basketball, freshly dug out of the pits of his closet and re-pumped with air. It wasn’t often that it got any use since he’d started practising at Kasamatsu’s well-equipped college courts. “Hey! Yeah, it’ll save us running around all the time to get it back!”

Aomine dropped his gym bag heavily to the ground and shoved it to the edge of the court with his foot. “You wrote your name on it?”

“What? No, not if I want to get it stolen! That’d make it fan-goods!”

He snickered. “Start with yours, then. Here.”

Kise tossed him the ball and without waiting, Aomine dropped it into the barest effort at a dribble behind him then flicked it -- a sharp movement of his wrist was all it took to send it arcing over Kise’s head and through the net on the far side of the court. He didn’t even realise he’d glanced back to follow its path until it was bouncing and rolling back towards his feet, Aomine shaking out his arm as though it still felt stiff after the throw. Kise gaped.

“We’re already starting?”

“You’re warmed-up, right?” Aomine said, rolling his shoulders to limber up.

...It was just an observation, just an assumption, but Kise took it exactly as the challenge he wanted it to be. When it came to a match with Aomine it was never just small-talk. 

“Like you need to ask,” he smiled, “You wanna use the full court this time?”

“Sure, why not.”

With that, Kise collected the ball and eased a slow, wary dribble around Aomine at a distance, cautiously, cautiously; the instant Aomine raised a hand in lazy defence he shot the same three-pointer, the same long, curving arch through the air and the same jangle of the chain-net as it sank through the hoop. Aomine didn’t break his gaze.

“Of course you did.” he scoffed after a moment.

“This way, we’re even!”

“You gonna score if I turn my back on you?” Aomine gestured at his sports bag by the side of the court with his own basketball in it.

“Maybe, maybe not! Depends on how fast I am on my _fat legs_.”

As he crouched down to get the ball he turned, glancing back at Kise who still stood at the centre circle, waiting with a smile on his face.

“You know I didn’t mean that.”

“You’ve held them enough times to know,” Kise bent his knees in preparation to run as Aomine approached him on the court. As if the words wouldn’t flow until his blood was pumping, Aomine locked up, seeing that defensive stance, before instantly loosening up with a break past him, flowing as he dribbled and wove a winding path towards the net to try to shake Kise off. Because that’s what it was; a chase, a hunt. Kise followed him, sneakers tapping on the tarmac and the ball’s thump-thump-thump dancing dangerously closely, close enough to steal if Aomine’s fingers didn’t deftly whisk it away each time Kise was within reaching distance of the hand that controlled it, until Aomine broke towards him like a threat, away from the net, and lobbed the ball over his shoulder. It bounced off the backboard and dropped through the net.

“You got away. I had to deal with Satsuki and Akashi tryin’a climb down my throat for answers.” he said as he watched Kise steadily, hardly out of breath like he hadn’t done anything more than walk to the other end of the court to score. Kise knew he was the one to bring up the topic but it had been more for something to jab him with; a tactic he should have known wasn’t the way to get anything out of Aomine, yet somehow, on the court, a tinge of aggression seemed like the clearest path towards getting Aomine’s attention right on him. The only way he knew. Finding something to be serious about -- usually, that was Kise’s struggle. Not at all the case with his rival.

“Did you tell them anything?” Kise mused, picking up the ball where it rolled towards him and dribbling it at his side. Aomine’s eyebrow quirked as Kise walked towards the edge of the court, then slowly followed his path like a stalking panther, not dropping eye contact once.

“‘Course not,” he said, then lunged out to strike the ball out of Kise’s grip the instant he tried to break through. “What did you tell Tetsu?”

Kise laughed as he jogged away to collect the ball again. “Wanna guess?”

“No,” Aomine frowned.

Facing him across from the sideline he considered teasing him, just a little like he used to -- trying to wheedle answers out of him on walks home from school, attempting to ply him with exclusive print-run magazines that he took but never commented on -- but talking on the court… really wasn’t working the way he wanted it to. Using Kuroko as bait didn’t work when those two were so close. He could see his patience wearing thin. So, if that was the case, the game had to continue. Kise broke into a sprint from the sideline, attempting to beeline towards the key if only to attempt a lay-up, but Aomine was there before he was because of course he could see it, from the way his eyes failed to fake his route. Kise grinned, looping the ball behind his back to draw it out of Aomine’s reach; a futile effort because Aomine pushed closer, practically snaring an arm around him to steal it and darted away, dribbling backwards.

“Hey! Isn’t that technically a foul?” he gasped as he ran after him, several seconds too late on his start, and watched him sink an easy three-pointer with time to spare for him to catch up.

“You’re not the only one with foul play.” Aomine said without turning to him, then as Kise jogged up to his side he shot him a terse look. Something in his eyes had Kise swallow whatever vapid I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about response he had prepared to throw out in case of actual confrontation.

“You want to bend the rules, huh?” he tried instead, a smile curling on his mouth.

“Not like we’re followin’ many.”

“Hmmm,” Kise tilted his head. “We’re on 3-1 right now… What do you want to get to? Before we put the rules back in?”

“Whatever. ‘Til it gets dark.” Aomine shrugged and finally glanced away like a cat losing interest. Something in Kise flared up, scrabbled for a scrap of attention.

“How about--” he blurted out, “First to fifteen, loser has to say what he said to the others?”

“This isn’t that kind of game.” He picked up the ball. “‘Sides, you could just tell me now since you’d lose.”

“You don’t know that!” Kise rolled his eyes. For once he wanted to at least _act_ like he could at least get close to beating him in a one-on-one.

“I do. Anyway, I don’t care if you don’t wanna tell me. It’s _your_ business.” 

“But don’t you--” 

Aomine started running and on cue Kise dashed after him, calling out despite thinking as if he’d stop, and furiously whipped up a game plan in his head -- for basketball, for once. Trying to seduce Aomine with words at the same time as one-on-one wasn’t going anywhere. He may as well stick to what he knew -- trying to win against him.

That’s all any of this was, anyway.

***

Kise’s palm stung with the sudden smack of the basketball out of his grip, marking Aomine’s winning basket out of the fifteen Kise was tallying up in his head. Before he could complain, whirling around to demand a rematch after his 15-8 loss, Aomine’s mouth was on his -- his hands, too, wrapping around Kise’s upper arms as he pulled him close. 

Typical, really, that the harder they played, the more worked-up they got. There was only so much they could stand dancing around one another under the premise of practice. Kise lay his hands flat against Aomine’s chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath his shirt, as they snatched kisses between panting and catching their breath. He tasted very faintly of cigarette-smoke whenever he rolled his tongue against his.

After a minute, two perhaps, of Aomine clutching him and feeling like he was trying to kiss the life out of him, Kise pushed his hands a little, breaking away to whisper, “Come to mine?”

Aomine didn’t say anything, simply pulling Kise flush against him and trying to draw out the kiss until he was too bothered by Kise slapping his chest in impatience to continue.

“Sure.”

They tossed their bags into the back of the car, the basketballs following and bouncing across the seats, however Kise had hardly reached for the seatbelt before Aomine's hands were on him again, running over his shoulders as he knelt over the gap between their seats to kiss him and kiss him _hard_. It was as though the confines of the car was good enough privacy for him. Kise let him push him back against the window, pulling Aomine's shirt up over his torso, breaking apart only to tug it over his head and the two of them to shift into the back seats. As soon as he was comfortable Aomine practically leapt on him, making short work of his neck, forcing a small marbling of hickeys at the join of his neck and shoulder. The noises Kise made at each suck and bite were sweet, not complaints; he didn't have any shoots at the weekend. He'd be stupid to accept them, after this.

As Aomine kissed him slowly and deeply, pushing him down into the plush seating, they suddenly became aware of an incessant buzzing coming from somewhere in the car. Reluctant to pause but bothered by its rhythmic noise, Kise flickered his eyes open as he arched beneath Aomine’s mouth pressing on him and fell quiet, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound.

"Your pocket," Aomine mumbled from over him, nuzzling down his neck as Kise struggled to reach his shorts pocket where Aomine had a knee wedged between his thighs; after some effort he extracted his phone, the screen lit up with a caller ID he really, really didn't want to see. Kise let out a telltale groan that drew Aomine's glance. Instantly he stopped kissing him as his eyes fell upon Haizaki's name. Kise reacted defensively right away.

"I haven't spoken to him since I said I'd stop!"

"You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me," Aomine grumbled, more annoyed with the caller than with anything else, and swiped for the phone. Kise yelped as he swung it away from him.

"Wait! What're you doing?!"

"Gonna give him a piece of my mind," Aomine growled.

"No, oh my god, that's a terrible idea--"

"Then hang up on him!"

"He'll just call again! I'm just gonna let it go to voicemail-- Aominecchi, hey!" Kise barely dodged Aomine's lunging the second time but he bumped the phone out of his hand and he hit the speaker option just as it clattered to the floor of the vehicle. The voicemail recording began.

_"You've reached Kise Ryouta's voicemail!☆ For modelling enquiries please dial 2 to be redirected to my agent at Zunon Entertainment, otherwise, leave a message after the tone--"_

His own recorded, sunshiney voice quickly gave over to a beep and a breathy voice that, for Kise, bore the memory of the scent of cigarettes, a vulgar person, the flicker of the tip of a tongue.

_"Oi, Ryouta. Not pickin' up again? You know, if you were ghostin' me, you could just block my number."_

Aomine looked from the phone to Kise's face slowly, like he was agreeing with the point he’d made. Kise shook his head wildly where he was pinned to the furnishings. He didn't block him because he didn't want him to figure out he was blocked and find _other_ ways to contact him! It wasn't as if he'd never had a stalker before! But to Aomine's surprise and Kise's pure discomfort, the audio continued.

This was the first message he'd ever left him and he was going to make it a good one, Kise realised with horror. If he knew him the way he knew him he had a script all laid out for this.

 _"Or, hahah, maybe you_ wanted _me to do this? Leave you a li'l somethin' of me to go back to when you’re lonely? Ain't heard anything from you for a couple weeks. But who’s countin', right."_

Kise tried to reach for the phone to mute it but Aomine knocked it further from his reach, under one of the basketballs.

_"You miss this cock, don't you, Ryoutaaaaa?"_

Kise paled. Above him, Aomine’s expression changed from a settled disgust to wide-eyed shock, the last kind of face he wanted to see Aomine make when they were meant to be having a good time. The last thing he wanted to hear when the one touching him was Aomine, the one he was craving, the one he was aiming for! 

“Turn it off,” Kise pleaded, reaching out blindly down to the floor of the car despite the futility of it.

“I wanna hear this,” Aomine said quietly.

_“You miss crawlin’ your slutty little way to my place and…”_

“Why?! It’s embarrassing! I told you, I’m not interested in him--”

_“...since I’m the best you’re ever gonna get, and you know it, nobody else would even…”_

“I’m gonna,” Aomine breathed, leaning back as he pushed Kise’s shirt up to expose his stomach, his torso, “--overwrite whatever he did to you. So you forget all about him.”

“Aominecchi, you don’t have to, just turn it off and touch me,” Kise tried to argue but his breath caught in his throat at the sight before him; Aomine’s dark skin contrasting so strongly against his own as he ran his hands over his pecs, stroking from the ridge of his collarbone to over his nipples standing pink and hard as he shivered, his voice wavered and he could feel his resolve sinking away with it. Despite wanting to firmly separate all his other experiences from what he was doing with Aomine right now there was a certain pull to the voice describing all those things, even decorated and half-truthful as they were, like a horrifying siren of old. Haizaki wasn’t even _good_ at dirty-talk, Kise lied to himself in vain. The difference between dealing with its cheesiness in person compared to hearing it at a safe distance from the man was palpable. It _was_ hot.

 _“--good you look naked? Pfft. You probably know, don’t you, or you wouldn’t spread those legs like you do when you’re begging for it, on your knees like a_ good booooy _…”_

That was the tipping-point: at the sound of that stupid little throwaway Kise’s face flushed bright red, deeply embarrassed since the last time he’d heard something like that was in the park with Number 2, and Aomine seemed to be cut just as deeply by it because he lunged forward and pushed Kise’s thigh back with a hand tucked under his knee, the motion wrenching a gasp from him.

“This kinda thing?” he murmured, grabbing his ass through his shorts as Kise gripped at the inner door handles to brace himself for Aomine’s roughness. “You like to be…?”

“A-Aominecchi, I really don’t want to hear both of your voices at once,” Kise complained softly. At that, Aomine shut up like his lips had been zipped.

_“--the noise you make when you’re dry-humping. Don’t think I don’t notice you leaking in your pants--”_

“Oh, my god,” Kise covered his face with his arms, ashamed beyond belief. Even if those things hadn’t actually happened _exactly_ like he was saying it was mortifying to hear this pastiche of himself out loud. When Aomine didn’t say anything Kise peeked pitifully between his forearms to try to look at him. “You know, I meant turn the phone off so I can hear you, not the other way around--”

But Aomine wasn’t looking at him; his eyes were firmly on the screen where it glowed on the flooring, the only source of light in the car as the neighbourhood around them grew steadily darker with the sun already setting below the buildings’ skyline. Gradually Kise started to recognise that expression: the look Aomine wore when he was trying to break through defence. He realised suddenly that he’d never seen those two rivals of his actually play head-to-head. He’d only heard second-hand about that brutal punch during the Winter Cup, too.

Was this Aomine’s attempt to beat Haizaki?

He felt Aomine touch him, at first a few teasing touches like brushstrokes over the front of his shorts before he slipped his hand up the leg and thumbed at him between the fabric and his pants, like he was trying to trace the contours of his anatomy there, his balls, his cock already straining at the elastic of his waistband. It felt extremely careful despite the tinny voice from the phone’s speaker being anything _but_. Kise held his breath with every slight stroke, waiting for him to break the tension with a squeeze or a grab but it never came. He suddenly realised he’d lifted his hips off the seats, trembling as he arched further, further into his hand, like all he had to do was reach him.

“A-Aominecchi,” he breathed when he felt he couldn’t stand it anymore, these tickling light touches.

_“But what you really like is when I’m fucking you raw, don’t ya, Ryoooouuu-taaaa?”_

“Raw?” Aomine repeated as he stared at him, his voice low and dull like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“It was one time and I didn’t know,” Kise said quickly, frowning in his frustration, curling his toes, “Please, please, Aominecchi, _please--_ ”

The sound of that had Aomine’s eyes flicker in sudden understanding and without pause he started to palm him roughly, sliding and pushing his palm against his cock until Kise could feel himself pulsing against his hand, the slightest leaking wetness in his pants. Any noises he was making, small and gasped and snatched, were lost to him with how he’d pressed his arms up over his face, his ears, in embarrassment.

“Is that good?” Aomine said delicately like he was testing it out, despite Kise writhing and gasping beneath him. _What the hell do you think this is_ , Kise thought, a terrible impatience in the back of his mind.

“Yes, _yes_ , mmm, Aominecchi--”

“Can you come just from this?”

“M-Maybe?” Kise broke from his climbing heart rate, his own gasping making his head spin, “I’ve never--”

Aomine cut him off by continuing, pushing harder than before, starting to stroke up and down the shaft where it stood out through the fabric. Kise felt himself sweat. Messy. Gross. He’d always felt a bit gross at Haizaki’s place, and maybe _kind of_ dirty for those quick clean fucks at Aomine’s place, but nothing like this. Nothing like the panting mess he was becoming on the furnishings of his own car. Just from a handjob-- not even skin-on-skin! Just a little teasing and that particular sensation and he was ready to burst. As though wanting to give him a break Aomine slowed suddenly, and when Kise picked up on it and peeked through the crack between his arms he saw Aomine leaning back and pushing down his shorts waistband and revealing a dark, fine treasure-trail descending from his stomach, slipping his free hand down the front of his briefs--

“Let me, let me,” Kise sighed, reaching out, but Aomine batted his hand away, looking almost regretful that he’d been so hasty to be clumsy.

“Focus on yourself,” he growled.

“But you--”

“Just tell me what you want me to do,” he panted, eyes fluttering shut as he jerked himself off quickly, much faster than what he was doing to him. Kise could barely reach his chest from where Aomine had him pinned, so he focused on stroking there at least, dragging his fingertips down until they grazed at his navel, bumping Aomine’s hand. Part of him was-- flattered, somehow, that Aomine wanted him to _talk_ to him. But the impatience Kise felt was starting to dominate the closer he came to climax, the harder he grew in Aomine’s hand. 

“I want you to touch me, let me touch you,” Kise insisted, “Come on, let me--”

“Tell me what you like,” he said, finally looking at him with those focused, low-lidded eyes, sending another wave of heat, of impatience rushing over him.

“I like whatever you’re doing, Aominecchi,” Kise breathed, “I love when you touch me, just touch me…”

With that Aomine grunted and shifted, digging his hand under Kise’s waistband to take him in his palm and he didn’t need much encouragement with the heat of his palm and those strong fingers working him before Kise arched, cumming but not just with a jolt-- with a slow, rolling rush, letting out shallow moans with small bucks of his hips and the pulsing of his cock as he spilled over Aomine’s fingers still jerking him, still tight around him. It didn’t feel like anything he’d ever experienced before, all fireworks and a smouldering heat that threatened to eat him up, like flames licking at his fingertips and dancing along his skin. The inside of the car was stifling. Aomine didn’t stop until Kise started to relax bit-by-bit, and even then he could tell when Aomine brought himself off, too, the way he gripped his hip suddenly and curled over Kise, quick to grab a tissue from the box he always kept beneath the driver’s seat. Beneath him, Kise felt dazed. He didn’t think that things could escalate so quickly. But then again he wasn’t able to think very much. It was like his body was putting itself on hold for a moment as the blood slowly returned to his extremities again.

“Kise,” Aomine breathed, gazing down at him. In the relative quiet of the car, neither of them moving with the come-down of their breaths, they each realised slowly that the voicemail had died quite some time ago. Kise still tingled from head to toe with the pleasure of the afterglow, but somehow, he felt just… ever-so-slightly guilty for getting this worked up to the sound of Haizaki’s voice, of all people. Nasty. He’d delete the message later. The bastard would probably love it if he knew what he’d managed to achieve by leaving that recording. It had been a little piece of him after all.

“Mmmh,” was all he could string together, trying to push himself back up to sitting, but Aomine lunged forward and wrapped his arms around him, keeping him upright just in his tight hug. Kise found himself clinging on for support even as his muscles ached from so much tension and arching, and beyond that, the one-on-one that had led to all of this. “Ah, Aominecchi…”

“Did you mean it?” Aomine murmured against his ear.

“Huhh? Oh… yeah, I stopped seeing him, I told you.”

“No, when I said to tell me what you like.”

“Oh,” Kise said softly, and when he couldn’t quite turn to look at Aomine he realised he was burying his head firmly into Kise’s neck. Like he didn’t want to be looked at. Hazy still from the pleasure of the climax Kise thought, why not be honest, “Yeah, I did… I do… You’re good.”

“It’s not just ‘cause--” Aomine seemed to want to stop himself from talking, the way his voice hitched, “--’cause anyone would do?”

“Of course not,” Kise wanted to laugh but he knew that would probably kill the mood beyond how Aomine was already thoroughly murdering it by asking all these questions, “It’s exactly because it’s you, Aominecchi. You’re who I want to…”

When he couldn’t find the words to express the hot, flickering, uncomfortable feeling he’d taken to noticing when the two were alone together, Aomine squeezed him gently.

“It can’t just be like that.”

“...What?” His heart sank.

“This wasn’t what you wanted, was it, Kise?”

This pillow-talk was getting more complicated by the minute. But Kise forced himself to actually pause to think about it. 

No, he didn’t particularly want a hurried handjob in the back of his car to the tune of Haizaki’s seedy dirty-talk. No matter how good it was and how few regrets he had about it, Aomine’s weight on him like it was pinning him to one place that he couldn’t escape from, somewhere to be rooted to, a sweet feeling of satisfaction. No, he’d been gunning for something else, hadn’t he? A long, uninterrupted night together. For Aomine to strip him bare and compliment him and work him up. And then the next day, all over again. And again. Aomine’s attention. His name in Aomine’s mouth. His eyes on him, only.

What was the difference between that and this?

Didn’t he just want a fuck?

Was this not _it_?

“You were _really_ good, though,” he countered quietly, still shivering with the odd brush of Aomine’s hand on his skin where he massaged his shoulders lightly at the edge of his tank-top. “Dreamy.”

“Yeah, but.” At last Aomine pulled back slightly and held him by the tops of his arms.

“But what,” Kise sighed gently, feeling himself sober up with every word he was forced to reply. For the first time ever he became aware of his impatience -- usually it spurred him on in training, on the court, in his career moves, a goal-achieving trait -- and he hated how childish it was making him in front of someone as slow, as care-taking, as dreadfully intense as Aomine before him. Aomine, a monster. Who could ever believe that about him?

“But you want-- better.” he said. “Like I wanted to.”

“Then we just have to try again!”

Aomine scoffed, sounding like a toned-down laugh for everything that had happened in the last ten minutes. “Like practice, huh.”

“Means we’ll get better,” Kise smiled, simply relieved that his… his… his friend-with-benefits seemed less moody than before. He didn’t know what else to call this. In reality he had no idea how he would have worded it, what he’d said to Kuroko, had Aomine taken him up on that silly bet at the start of their game. What do you call somebody who you’re serious about, but without a confession? Calling it ‘more than friends’ would have been an insult to all of his other friends, even if it sounded closer than any other string of words Kise could find to describe what he wanted from Aomine.

“Promise I won’t skip, then.” Aomine said, sinking in closer to push a slow kiss to Kise’s mouth. For a stunned moment even as he kissed back, eyes closed, Kise wondered, _why is he kissing me?_ They’d already had sex. What more was there to get out of him? But when he stayed gazing at him, Aomine seemed to wear a warm smile, not a trace of wanting to go for a second round in his expression.

“Did you want to… come back to mine?” Kise tried all the same, but Aomine shook his head as he helped Kise back to sitting, passing him the tissues.

“Not tonight. 4am start.”

Kise paused and checked the time on his phone. They’d been in the car long since sundown.

“Should you be working on six hours’ sleep?”

“Wouldn’t sleep at all if you were there,” Aomine grumbled.

“No, I mean, call in sick…” Kise waggled his eyebrows to drive his point home. Aomine squinted, then grimaced when he realised. “Whaaat? Doesn’t everybody do that once in a while?”

“Nice try.”

“Worth a shot!” Kise pouted as Aomine peeled himself away to try to climb into the passenger’s seat without stepping on the clutch, “Ohh, eager much? You really do want to get an early night…”

Weary, Aomine glanced back at him. “Told you I was gonna make it up to you. This wasn’t it. C’mon, get your ass up here.” 

“Oooh, you’re picking up on it, too,” Kise teased, settling himself in carefully and turning the engine on.

Aomine didn’t say anything then but a small smile flickered across his features. Kise reflected it, pulling the car out from the quiet corner of the parking-lot onto the side-road. The glow of the display was blinding after so long spent in the dark. 

“You remember the way back?”

“Of course I do, who do you think I am?” Kise laughed as he took a turn onto the main road to Shinjuku. Sinking into his seat Aomine shrugged. 

“Could’ve needed a reminder.”


End file.
